For those of you who are new to my (weird-ish) SYOCs, welcome! I hope you will give my story a chance, however strange it may initially be. ;) If you want to see more of my writing, please consider looking at my other Danganronpa SYOC (now closed), Of Trials, Truths, and Tribulations. I try to update my work(s) least once a month, and while the initial first chapters tend to be short, future chapters are much more dense and content-rich.
For those of you who are currently reading my other Danganronpa SYOC fanfiction, Of Trials, Truths, and Tribulations, do not be alarmed! I am NOT discontinuing, nor postponing, OTTT. Of Magic, Mystique, and Memoirs will be a side project that will be updated alongside OTTT at different intervals. This way, if one is not updated, readers may refer to another as a source of amusement.
If you care to hear my thoughts on the SYOCs, OTTT is the more conservative of the two fics, while OMMM will be...zany. Extremely, extremely zany. But in a good way, I swear.
Anyway, whether you guys already know me or not, my goal is to present readers with high quality fanfiction, so, of course, reviews and constructive criticisms are welcome. I'm always looking to improve my writing skills.
Okay, that's enough talking from me. Alright, enjoy the story! :D
They say that reading opens up entire worlds to those otherwise unable to visit such distant realms. Written word unfurls decade upon decade of history and ancient lore, allowing for readers to embark on adventures and tackle the unknown, all from the safety of one's own home. For a recluse like me, this has always been true, as well as simply fascinating.
My favorite genre, by far, is that of fiction. These types of works explore the unknown, the endless possibilities that have yet to be attained, the great mysteries of the universe. Fantasy, in particular, entertains the notions of magic and mythical beasts, both of which are non-existent in the real world. Myths, legends, and fairy tales...they engulf one in a strange, surreal setting, an entirely new realm, if you will, completely detached from our very own.
In truth, our domain is bent and distorted, riddled with crime and hatred, sin and disease, poverty and death. Fantasies are the only way to elude reality, if only for a short amount of time. It is a temporary escape that costs nothing.
I'm told that I should get my head out of "those books" and to socialize a bit more by several adults. However, I find real people much less interesting than the fictional ones I encounter. As a result, I tend to ignore such boorish, uninformed advice. Why bother being with others when books can do the very same, as well as be much more stimulating and enlightening, for the mind?
After all, I've been surrounded by literature and reading materials, both figuratively and literally, right from the very moment I was born. Novels and tomes of all sorts litter the Malgosia household, stacked upon counters, arranged neatly in bookshelves, or merely strewn about any other available space. Before I even grasped the concept of reading, I had probably already viewed the alphabet in its entirety while padding around on all fours. When I am not reading, I am writing papers-mostly out of boredom-on myths, peering into each individual sinew for deeper meaning and context. I suppose it isn't that outrageous of a background for the daughter of two renowned literary scholars.
Mother and father have home-schooled me for the majority of my life, and as far as I know, my intelligence quotient exceeds that of the typical adolescent girl. Father, being an English professor at a local university, has even taken a few of my pieces and brought them in for his students to examine prior to analyzing famous works of fiction. Therefore, the claim that social interaction is necessary for success seems ludicrous in my eyes, despite how often mother and father protest to my "unhealthy, antisocial behavior".
I had expected it to be this way forever-that I would remain in blissful ignorance when indulged in the countless pages of my books and sheltered by my home.
Then came the letter from Camelot Academy that ruined everything-the letter that proclaimed me to be the Elite Mythologist of the next Wise Class.
I pleaded with mother and father to promptly reject the invitation, but they would not hear of it. They dismissed my protests as mere antisocial delusions, insisted that this was an "amazing opportunity" and a "once-in-a-lifetime chance", that I should seize it immediately. Once, my parents even sat me down and gave an excessive, serious lecture on the prestige of Camelot Academy, in a vain attempt to convince me to attend. None of the information they had graced me with was anything new or revolutionary. Everyone has heard of Camelot and praise it to high heaven.
"Camelot is an excellent learning institution, Estelle-the very best in all of England. Not just anyone can enter, you know. The school itself hand-picks talented young high school students-such as yourself-to study there and carry on the next generation to a brighter future. It has top-notch instructors and facilities for all of its students, as well as beautiful, heavily embellished dorms to stay in. And what's more, those that graduate are granted eternal happiness and wealth!" A pause. "Doesn't that sound exciting?"
"Not particularly." I had replied in a bland, monotone voice-just to emphasize my lack of interest. "I don't see why I cannot continue studying under your guidance, mother and father."
"You can't stay locked in your room for the entirety of your life, dear! There are people to meet, places to visit, things to do!"
"I don't like people." I had stated truthfully enough. "I like my books."
"Come now, Estelle! Look at the acceptance letter. You've been put into the Wise Class-surely you'll be comfortable around those that share the same intellect as you!"
"There's no guarantee."
"Well, you're such a cute girl, Estelle. I'm sure you'll attract some nice girl friends, or perhaps a civilized gentleman to show you around the-"
"Ew."
The conversation had dwindled to an uncomfortable silence, signaling the end of our parents-to-child talk. I tend to have that kind of effect on others.
I hoped that I had clearly illustrated to mother and father exactly why I was reluctant to drop out of homeschooling, but…A few weeks later, my parents announced to me that I had been officially registered for Camelot Academy, thrusted an assortment of freshly purchased school supplies at me, and said that there was no "turning back" now. I should have known.
Honestly, the nerve of my parents! Why, mother has even gone to the trouble of dolling me up for my first day of class, pleating my golden hair into elaborate pigtail braids. Father has bought me a new set of clothes for the new school year. They coo and croon, reassuring me that everything will "turn out fine".
But no amount of gifts or comforting will ever convince me that choosing Camelot Academy was a smart decision. No-that wording is incorrect. I didn't choose Camelot...Camelot chose me.
My parents act as though I have suddenly become an honorary member of royalty, like the ones in fairy tales that just lay around and look pretty while their kingdoms crumble around them. Mother and father's perception could not be farther from reality. Rather than a potential princess, I feel like a future prisoner.
Mother and father expect great things from their genius of a daughter.
I scoff at them.
By no means was I intimidated by the idea of Camelot Academy. Rather, I am proud of my academic merits and wish to be treated with a reasonable amount of respect. Still, I am not at all ecstatic to be forced to face the very things I read to avoid-people and their dwellings. There is no happily ever after in the real world, no magic or fairy godmothers to save you at just the right moment. Only a mundane, bustling state of din thrives outside of books, boring me with its sheer simplicity.
As if to punish me for my cynical nature, the first day of school soon arrived like a speeding train to a body tied to a set of railroad tracks. (A morbid analogy, I know, but bear with me for a few moments longer.) Mother and father did me the honor of driving me to the Academy gates. Perhaps it's just because I don't go out often, but the ride to school seemed to drag on for an eternity, passing by various buildings and unrecognizable faces on our way to Camelot.
I did not allow my parents to escort me to the front door. I was too cross to have ever given them the satisfaction of physically turning me into this place. Seizing my luggage with hesitant hands, I forced myself to march on toward the school. I could feel the heat of my parents' eyes-as well as their wide grins-directed toward the back of my head the entire time.
The academy looked as regal as the public had built it up to be, with imposing golden gates and pristine white spires creating the illusion of a grand castle. Flowers and well-tended to plants dot the school garden while stone statues of old heroes and grandiose water fountains grace the remainder of the school campus, reminding visitors of the importance of the institution. Indeed, it looks like the sort of place inhabited by modern day royalty...that is to say, it looks too good to be true.
As the saying goes, one should not "judge a book based on its cover". I had a negative inkling, as soon as I passed through the chilling school gates, that this institution was completely gilded, using a pretty, innocent facade to disguise horrifying, ugly wounds. Just an inkling, mind you, a keen suspicion that the school spent more money on decoration than actual academics.
Still, that didn't stop me from finally stepping into the heavily embellished front foyer.
What happened next…that's a little fuzzy. If I muster up enough energy, I can picture myself in...what appears to be a waiting room, twiddling with my thumbs. I cannot seem to recall much of my time at Camelot Academy aside from a short exchange with, I believe, a staff member. The context of it all is unclear to me, though I do find it strange that, at the time, I appeared rather...compliant with the person I was addressing.
"Estelle Malgosia of the Wise Class?"
"Present."
"We will now proceed with your interview."
"Of course."
This...is my Story-the Story of the Forbidden Forest and the sixteen students trapped within it. Proceed with caution, dear Reader, for we have yet to even arrive at the outskirts of the great wood. Where this Story is headed, not even I know.
The Complete Class Roster:
The Courageous:
1. Zachariah Garmont, Elite Knight, is the self-proclaimed "gift to women everywhere". Both extremely confident and competent with his physical capabilities, Zachariah has a strong sense of justice and feels the constant need to protect those he considers "weak". He seems to lack a certain degree of common sense, never taking a hint when others want him to stop monologuing about upholding justice and vanquishing evil.
2. Jaxon Caldwell, Elite Wayfarer, is a simple thrill-seeker that lives each day to its fullest ("carpe diem", if you will). He is friendly (and somewhat flirtatious), but generally has good intentions. Jaxon is easily distracted, but tries his best to see the good in everyone.
3. Mana Farveou, Elite Mercenary, is...unique. While crafty and quick on her feet, Mana is quite lazy and needs a bribe or two (or ten) before she is motivated to do anything aside from sassing or talking back to others. Sarcastic and impolite, Mana takes great joy in teasing her peers, much to the annoyance of...pretty much everyone.
4. Priscilla Olry, Elite Baker, is motherly, nurturing, and girlish, the type to put hearts instead of dots in lowercase i's. Many question why she was placed into the Courageous Class rather than the Kind Class-but those people just haven't seen Priscilla lose her temper yet. Frighteningly militant when angered, she isn't afraid to speak her mind or wallop anyone for misbehaving.
The Kind:
1. Endi Amos, Elite Craftsman, is one who tends to think outside of the box. Difficult to upset and empathetic toward all of his peers, Endi is a gentle soul that's always willing to lend a hand. He likes to fiddle around with random bits and pieces that he finds lying around, as well as making spontaneous pieces.
2. Johanna Zeal, Elite Boxer, is rough around the edges, passionate, and hot blooded as hell-but she's the type to defend her friends until the very end. Her punch packs...well...a punch, and she's always ready for a good challenge. Unfortunately, sometimes her attitude lands her in rather unfavorable situations...
3. Ricard Bell, Elite Hunter, is a generous, altruistic individual. With a heart of gold and a naive, trusting stance on social interactions, Ricard is a pacifist that fights and hunts only if he needs to. He respects Mother Nature and her subjects in all of their mysterious, elusive majesty.
4. Nissa Marigold, Elite Illusionist, is sweet and sociable by nature. Extremely bubbly and determined to make others smile, she'll pull out everything in her bag of tricks to generate happiness. According to Nissa, "little white lies" are okay, so long as the one telling them "has a good enough reason".
The Wise:
1. Estelle Malgosia, Elite Mythologist, is a somewhat reclusive, cynical girl (oh, and our protagonist). Having descended from a pair of renowned literary scholars, she, too, pursues knowledge with a logical, level-headed mindset, although she seems to prefer the company of books to people. Estelle daydreams quite a bit and appears delicately detached from reality, but...is that all there really is to her?
2. Ellanora Maria Addeneil (or simply "Maria"), Elite Statistician, is down-to-Earth and practical. Constantly calculating numbers in her head, Maria is both intelligent and curious, as her hobbies (aside from statistics) involve collecting objects and combining things into strange concoctions. She is more meek and submissive than most of the other students.
3. Michael Jagner, Elite Bandit, is a devious and mischievous boy who uses his above-average intelligence to lie, tease, and poke fun at others. Though not mean spirited or a genuine bully, he has a habit of taking what he needs whenever he feels like it. Michael rarely applies himself in the classroom, and would much rather be out and about rather than cooped up studying.
4. Lance Hawthorn, Elite Ventriloquist, is cunning, manipulative, and willing to use his wits to his advantage. Uncaring and cold, he constantly puts himself on a pedestal and belittles others that he deems are "below" him. Lance is essentially the Byakuya Togami of OMMM (brace yourselves)...
The Loyal:
1. Thomas Durandal, Elite Courier, is always sporting a can-do attitude, having never once broken his oath of client confidentiality when delivering messages, packages, and letters. Once he is intrigued by something-anything-he will relentlessly pursue that "something" and is unlikely to give it up any time soon. Whether that's admirable or creepy is up for debate.
2. Cado Stone, Elite Blacksmith, is like the dependable older brother that you've never had. Laid back and relaxed, Cado is not especially talkative, but he's always eager to be of use to those he trusts. On the other hand, he doesn't have much self-esteem or faith in himself to do very well.
3. Carina Arcard, Elite Falconer, is never seen without her attention-seeking companion, Icarus. Both trainer and trainee are highly perceptive and strive towards self-improvement. A stickler for the rules, Carina will take it upon herself-and her falcon-to maintain peace if no one else will.
4. Frieda Gatzemeyer, Elite Composer, is clearly dedicated to her work in the realm of music. She initially comes across as an aloof aristocrat, but at least Frieda strives to be composed and civilized, as any true lady should. Perhaps she may be friendlier than she seems-others just need to approach her first. Most people, in fact, say she is like an onion with many complex layers...