Author's Note: Hello! This is Frog Legs, and since all the characters are loosely based on classic fairy tales and other literature, it is fanfiction. This is the pilot, so it's organized a bit different than the regular episodes are going to be; it's more like an introduction. It's not perfect, and my writing isn't completely amazing or professional, but I hope you take the time to read it, and enjoy! -Maddy
"Pilot: A Castle called Fable."
Episode One; Season One; Frog Legs.
Once upon a time, in a bustling first year biology classroom, frogs were being dissected.
One particular bullfrog had managed to escape. This brave, daredevil amphibian had dodged the menacing hands of its attempted captor and was now hiding. A truly celebratory feat, but alas, this poor creature no longer had any ribbiting friends to party with. She had watched the students examining bits and pieces of her brethren, using scientific technology too advanced for her frog mind to comprehend and made her frog stomach twinge.
And when the final bell rang, she waited under a double desk for the students to disperse before hopping along down the emptying hallway, down the stairs and out of the building with a lonely, lost ache forever embedded in her frog heart.
Our story begins, like most do, with our hero (he likes being called that. You really don't have to).
Zackary Foster, an average boy of average looks and average intelligence, let out a shaky sigh, reassuring himself that there was no need to be so nervous. He stood quivering at the beginning of a winding cobblestone path that would eventually lead him to the most elegant, jaw-dropping, fantastical building he had ever seen. However, the term 'building' didn't really seem to do it justice.
The first word that popped into our hero's mind upon sight of his new school was castle.
Imagine you are in Zack's position; you see the path that curves through a vast expanse of grassy field, equipped with an orderly rose garden, several towering oaks and a marble fountain, the clear water laden with lily pads.
Beyond this, is a castle. It's made of bricks like your neighborhood public school, but they are not grimy, and there is no sign of graffiti or even chalk.
Basically, the school is a cross between an old public school and a Victorian castle, the kind you would see in fairy tales. Solid Greek-style columns supported the rest of the building: three triangular peaks flanked by two tall, sturdy towers; and arches, beams and the occasional out-of-place stained glass window. It is thick, and there is no telling what lies behind it. It's quite a chaotic structure, that being the main building, anyway. Behind it and surrounding the front grounds, are several shorter, more squarish buildings, but they do not have any less class about them.
If you are imagining this, I'd like to personally welcome you to Fable Academy. It is home to some of the wealthiest high school students in the world; most of them are sons and daughters of successful doctors, movie stars, entrepreneurs, political figures and there's the occasional exceptionally bright scholarship kids, but no one seems to care about those ones. But please, stop me now, before I start to sound like the homepage of the Academy website.
Zack was in awe. He gripped the handle of his suitcase tightly, his knuckles turning white. Several thoughts were rushing through his mind at that moment, and I can imagine they went something like this: My parents can afford this place? How rich are they? Everything is so fancy. Am I at Hogwarts? Maybe I've died. There seems to be no sign of human intelligence. Maybe I'm the only student! But no, that doesn't work.
Immediately after this last thought, Zack was surprised by the bell, signaling the end of a school day. The noise seemed to echo in his skull for several seconds. And seconds after that, Fable Academy exploded in a rush of high schoolers, dressed in orderly and identical gray and black uniforms. The only thing that set each student apart was their different colored neckties that they were loosening and tying around their heads in a mad Friday frenzy.
Zack only realized that he was blocking the exit—where most of the students were rushing to—when he was pushed aside by three teenage boys snorting with laughter. They didn't seem to notice when Zack stumbled and tripped over his suitcase, landing face first in the freshly mowed lawn.
"Ow..." he muttered, his voice muffled. He rolled over onto his back just as a student leaped over him; the boy was hopping hurriedly and kept glancing at his wristwatch. "My apologies, good sir!" he called over his shoulder, in between whispers of: "I'm late, late, oh, so late."
"Good sir?" Zack repeated, dazed. Slowly he stood up and brushed his jeans off. He knew he was standing out. For one, he had a suitcase with him and wasn't in uniform. And two, the other kids were giving him intrigued looks as they passed by, chatting merrily with their friends.
One girl caught his eye and smiled; she was zipping up a red hooded sweatshirt and held her cell in between her cheek and shoulder. She was saying: "No, I'm sorry I can't this weekend. I'm going to my grandmother's place...I know, right?"
Our hero slumped over to a tall tree, the leaves of which were just beginning to shade their green color for a rich, creamy orange. Zack had always liked autumn.
Suddenly remembering the crumpled piece of paper in his pocket, Zack drew it out and smoothed the edges.
Congratulations, you have been accepted at Cadmus P. Fable Academy.
He skimmed the next few lines.
Upon your arrival, please wait at the front of the school for Vincent Archer, your House Prefect, to give you an orientation.
"Vincent Archer," Zack reread aloud, scratching his head. "How am I supposed to know who he is, exactly?" his eyes scanned the campus of students in their uniforms, identical from afar.
He made a reluctant grumbling noise and stuffed the unhelpful letter back in his jeans pocket. It was then that a dark green shape caught his eye, as it clashed with the grass. It was palm sized and it was moving. Hopping, to be more exact. Hopping towards him. A shudder was sent up his spine as he realized the little creature was a bullfrog, with vague little spots down its scaly green back.
The frog paused for a moment, an inch from Zack's sneaker. The creature looked up at him with keen black eyes, unafraid. The boy raised a thick eyebrow at the amphibian, before their locked gaze was interrupted by an apologetic shout.
"Zackary...Foster? Is that you?" Zack looked up to see another teenage boy jogging towards him. "Sorry, I totally forgot. And that's not like me, I promise!"
Zack looked back down to his own feet, but his frog friend had vanished. He scanned the patch of grass around him, but the frog was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he imagined it, he wondered, coming back to reality.
A stocky, olive-skinned athletic-type extended a hand to Zack.
"Oh, it-it's fine," Zack shook the Prefect's hand with a kind yet anxious grin. "I'm just glad you remembered at all. I—I really had no idea where to go..."
"Again, sorry 'bout that," the two exchanged some awkward chuckling. "I'm Vince, by the way. Sophomore and Crane House Prefect, at your service," he gave a dramatic little bow, "here to show the newbie first year around."
"Ah, Vince, I'm Zack. But you knew that—" Zack was momentarily distracted. Slung over Vince's back was a quiver, storing arrows with feathered tips. And in the boy's other hand—the one he hadn't shaken with—was his longbow.
"Just came back from archery practice," Vince supplied, when he noticed Zack's eyes on his equipment. "I was only there a few minutes before I realized I had a tour to give," he added sheepishly.
Besides the archery attire, Vince wore the Fable uniform; only his was slightly more bedraggled than the other students Zack had seen. The sleeves of his white button-up shirt were rolled to his elbows, and he was in a dark gray sweater vest and black corduroy pants. A dark green necktie with thin, lighter stripes was stuffed in his front pocket. Vince's thick, black pile of hair was sticking up as the boy had ran his hands through it several times.
"Shall we begin?" Vince asked, gesturing towards the school. He gave a friendly smile, the natural lines in his face deepening. Zack noticed the bags under the Prefect's eyes were dark creases, but Vince didn't act tired.
Zack nodded and returned Vince's smile. "Sounds good."
"See, Fable's divided up into four Houses," Vince explained, as the two boys began walking down the cobblestone path, going the opposite direction of the students passing them. "There's Crane, which we're in; all boys. Then Hemingway, also all boys," Zack detected a hint of disdain in Vince's tone. "The girl Houses are Bronte and Austen."
Zack couldn't think what to say to this, so he simply nodded silently, heaving his suitcase behind him and wondering when and if he could drop it off somewhere.
As the boys were approaching the main castle-like building, Vince gave a crooked grin and looked eager to announce: "This is the Main Hall...Or the Mother Ship, or the Castle, or Hogwarts," laugh, "or whatever the hell you want to call it."
They looked up at the building; Zack gawked with awe, Vince observed with slight nostalgia. The younger boy's eyes followed the thick columns up and up; the place seemed to go on forever, the peaks reaching as far as the poofy cumulus clouds. It looked as if it belonged in another world, or maybe on a movie set. But this was real life, and it was here.
"It's intimidating at first, I know," Vince said, watching Zack with keen, wise eyes. "Such a big school and all."
"Yeah, pretty much..."
"You ever been to private school before?"
"Nah, actually. But my parents are working out of the country, and I wanted to stay in the states. I've, uh, never really been to a boarding school before," Zack said, then smirked. "Most kids I know who go to boarding schools were sent there for, well, being bad, y-you know?" he let out an uneasy chuckle.
"Oh, I know. I know some like that here."
As if on cue, the heavy mahogany double doors burst open, and an unusual trio emerged, tailed by what looked like a typical crony.
"Ah, Vincent!" the shortest of the trio sung out at the sight of Vince and Zack. The boy paused in his movements to give a dashing smile, revealing his pearly whites. He had a strong, defined jaw, heavy eyebrows and perfect auburn hair. His left arm was resting around the shoulders of a scrunched-over boy with an indignant expression. "Escorting the new student as usual, I see," the auburn-haired boy added, nodding to Zack, without the uniform that the rest of them wore. "Always the Prefect."
"Hello, Julian," Vince nodded back, grimacing. "And yeah, this is Zack Foster." Zack gave an awkward sort of wave, causing Julian to chuckle.
"Aw, I see," Julian said, in an irritating, all-knowing fashion. His voice was painfully proper. "Kicked out of your old school, ah?" before Zack could say otherwise, the annoyance continued: "I know how you feel, young man. I've been there. I was expelled from my old place of learning for being so ridiculously attractive and positively irresistible to anyone who so much as glanced in my direction—"
"Give it a rest!" the heaviest of the trio shot in. He had a scruffy beard and unruly brown hair. He was somewhat overweight, and reminded Zack of a menacing, ravenous beast, from the way he was ripping at his gum. He was in the uniform, and his necktie was dark green like Julian's and Vince's.
But the boy who trailed after them had a maroon tie and was definitely smaller, and frailer. He had mousy brown hair and a long, thin nose. He was watching with a scowl on his face, but he didn't participate in the conversation.
"Thanks for shutting him up," the miserable middle boy said. Zack noticed that under his charcoal pea coat, he wore green tights and what appeared to be some sort of leotard. He was carrying ballet slippers in his hand, attempting to hide them. Zack raised an eyebrow silently.
"Shut it, faggot," the large guy grumbled back. Julian and his friend jeered at this. The boy in the tights, however, wasn't so pleased. His eyebrows came together furiously and he attempted to shrug off the two thugs on either side of him, shouting: "Don't you dare call me that, or I'll—"
"You'll what, girly boy? Dance at me to death?"
"I'd—I'd dance on your grave!"
"Are you threatening me? Goddamn fag."
"HEY!"
Five heads whipped around to gawk at Vince, a vein throbbing in his forehead, holding out his bow in a threatening manner.
"Got a problem, Archer?"
"S-Something the matter, Vincent?"
"Yeah. You could say that," Vince seethed, his hands gripping the bow tighter. "Don't throw that word around so casually. And at innocent people, like, uh..."
"Theodore," the so-called "girly boy" answered quietly, his cerulean eyes wide.
Vince hesitated before asking: "Mind if I call you Theo?"
Theodore shrugged in response, momentarily free of the others' grips.
"Sweet," Vince turned back to the bully, a fire blazing in his eyes. "Listen, Travis. Lay off Theo here. What has he ever done to you?" Travis opened his mouth to reply scathingly, but Vince cut him off. "And quit using that word, it's cruel. And you know, it used to mean a bundle of twigs, and I guess it does still mean cigarette..." he trailed off, momentarily distracted. "But, uh, that's not that point. It's also a homophobic slur—and someone elses sexuality is none of your business."
Zack stood by, wanting to pipe in with some inspiring words of his own, but feeling at a loss.
"I wasn't saying he was gay," the bully, Travis, said as if it were painfully obvious. He put volume emphasis on the last word, too. "I—I didn't mean it like that, quit defending every nerd that I play around with, Archer. And besides, everyone says it."
After a second of silence in which Vince tried to figure out an intelligent retort (when he really wanted to shout, "YOU IGNORANT JERK, FEEL THE WRATH OF MY ARROWS!") Travis grunted for Julian and the long-nosed boy to follow him. "Let's get outta here."
Before leaving, Julian shot a rather guilty and apologetic smile to Theodore, and then scampered after the others down the cobblestone path.
It seemed most students had departed for their dorms already. Theo, Vince and Zack were alone.
"Hey, thanks for that," Theo said, trying to deepen his voice. "It means a lot, especially from someone I—I don't know." He shuffled his feet nervously. He was a tall, lanky boy with bushy strawberry-blonde hair and a pronounced Adam's apple in his long neck. "But I could've taken them," he added.
Vince gave him a sideways smile, their eyes locked. "Julian, probably. But Travis, phew, you'd be dead. You should be glad I was here."
Zack, suddenly feeling third-wheel-ish, extended his hand to the extremely tall Theodore, and said, "I'm Zack. It's nice to meet you, Theo, you're the second decent person I've met at this school."
"Oh, hi! Nice to meet you!" Theo shook Zack's hand with overflowing enthusiasm. "Are you a first year?" Zack couldn't stop noticing Theo's light green tights, he forced himself to stare Theo in the eyes and mustered a brief: "Yep."
"Ooh, me too!" Theo had this childish excitement that was immediately contagious to Zack, who, for reasons unknown to himself, gave a little jump and a small "woo!"
"I was just giving him an orientation tour," Vince informed Theodore.
"Oh, man, I missed mine. Do you think I could tag along? I keep getting lost."
"Sure!" Vince and Zack chorused without hesitation.
Zack was starting to feel like he had a couple potential friends—and enemies—at Fable Academy. He was also starting to get the feeling that everything was clicking into some kind of pattern, but he couldn't quite but his finger on it. Surely it would come to him later.
"The dorm Houses are across the street," Vince was saying, as Theo, Zack and he sat on a stone bench in the center of the rose garden. "Those renovated apartment buildings you saw, maybe?"
"Aw, yeah, those," Zack said, remembering the way the students had flocked towards that direction.
"Fable used to be a regular day school, and only recently it was changed to a boarding school."
"The dorms are much fancier than the rest of the school. Inside at least," Theo added. He was sitting criss-crossed on their bench and rocking slightly.
"M-Much fancier?" Zack repeated, dumbfounded. "This is the absolute fanciest place I've been in my entire life! Just look at it! It's a frickin castle!" He paused to think for a moment, then came the inevitable: "So, um, how rich are you guys?"
Theo laughed.
Vince said, "Well, I came from a trailer park, so..." when Zack gaped incredulously, he supplied: "There's such a thing as a scholarship, you know."
"...Right."
"How did you get in, then?" Theo asked Zack.
"Erm, well, I guess my parents might be somewhat rich. But we've never really lived so...extravagantly." Zack shrugged. "They're working in Africa now, and I couldn't go and didn't really want to. So I applied here."
At the mention of parents, Theo looked away and focused his attention on a dark red rose that drooped sadly. He smelled it, then tapped it gently with his forefinger. A single velvet petal fluttered down to the stone floor, forlornly.
"It's great here, I think," Vince said, stroking his archery bow with an unreadable glint in his dark brown eyes. "Besides the occasional asshole. It's taken me almost a year to appreciate this place, though. It was so hard to... adjust."
"You're kind of a legend, actually," Theo blurted out suddenly. When the other two raised eyebrows at him and he realized what he'd said, Theo tried to remain offhand and casual, looking down at his fallen rose petal and shuffling his feet. "Well. You know, you help kids when Travis or Julian or anybody picks on them...Like earlier."
"A legend?" Vince brushed off the compliment with a wave of his hand. "Not really. I just can't stand those idiots."
"What you did was really cool," Zack admitted. "I probably would never have the guts to do something like that."
"Well, I didn't really have the guts to just do nothing about it," Vince seemed embarrassed suddenly and quickly dived for a topic change, back to orientation. "Right, so, you start classes on Monday. And I suppose you got your schedule in the mail, right?"
"Oh, uh, yeah. It's right here." Zack dug in his jeans pocket again, extracting the mess of papers. "Let's see, uh...Here it is." He handed a blue half-sheet to the second year student.
"Ah, you've got Cross for literature! He's Crane's advisor."
Theo shuddered, "Cross gives me the creeps. And he's always busting me for late work," he sighed tragically. "But I don't want to work. I hate school."
"What's so creepy about him?" Zack asked anxiously.
Theo gave him a very serious look. "When you meet him, you'll see."
"He's a good guy," Vince assured him. "So what if he's a little scary...?"
"Disturbing, maybe?" Theo pondered thoughtfully.
"Sinister."
"Eerie!"
"Hair-raising."
"...Weird."
"He volunteers at a blood bank in his free time—"
"I g-get it!" Zack raised his shaky hands up in defense. Vince handed him the schedule with a guilty expression. "So, ah, what else is there to know about this place?"
"Stay away from Hemingway House," Theo warned immediately. "That's where those idiots from before live. That place is ridden with raging evildoers."
"Aw, c'mon," Zack said, feeling nervous again. "Not everyone from Hemingway House is evil, it's just a couple of guys, r-right?" Zack looked at Theo, Theo looked at Vince; Vince grimaced.
"It'd be best if you just stayed away from that place," Vince fumbled with his bow again.
"And Sinclair, the Dean. Don't mess with him. His mind works in mysterious and treacherous ways," Theo said. Vince nodded in agreement, making an mhm noise.
After a silent moment, Theo cocked his head upward like a dog, Vince followed suit after a second. Zack, about to ask, started hearing it too. A powerful soprano voice was belting her way towards the three boys.
They were tuning into the middle of the buildup to a chorus."...Maybe you could show me how to try, maybe you could take me in..." the girl's voice was getting louder and louder, either a crescendo or she was getting closer, or both. "Somewhere underneath your ski-in! What do you say, to taking chances? What do you say, to jumping off the edge? Never knowing if there's solid ground below—"
A small Asian girl—who looked about half the size of a person who could yield that kind of vocal volume—emerged from in between the rosy branches, her arms outstretched, an iPod in her hand, its speakers blasting.
"Or hands to hold, or hell to pay! What do you—" that was when her eyes opened, obviously sensing the boys' presence. "Say...?" she spoke the last word, in a much lower voice. Hurriedly the girl tugged out her earphones and unlocked her iPod screen, pausing the song with a shaky tap of her finger. "Sorry. I thought I was alone," she said sheepishly.
"Whoa," Zack breathed in response, his mouth slightly agape. Vince wanted to tell him to stop drooling, but resisted.
"What, was I terrible?" the girl shot back, breathing heavily. "'Cause I thought I was pretty damn good."
"N-No! That's not it, uh, you were amazing. Amazing," Zack repeated his last word, perhaps for emphasis, or perhaps because he didn't know what else to say. But he was sincere.
"Well, thanks," the girl said, grinning, obviously pleased with herself. She wrapped the headphones around the device and tucked it inside a purse that slung over her arm.
She wore the Fable uniform: black jacket with circular gray buttons, white blouse, a pleated black skirt, but she had a maroon necktie, loosened around her neck. Her long, silky black hair was in a thick French braid down her back. She was pretty in a quiet way; she was not slutty or begging for attention, maybe she wasn't even wearing makeup.
She had striped maroon knee socks as well, and wore muddy once-yellow Converse All-Stars, doodled on with multi-colored Sharpie. Everything about her was petite: small nose, small lips, and carefully plucked thin eyebrows.
Zack thought she was amazing, and he had absolutely no idea who she was.
"You're Lucy, right?" it was Theo who broke the momentary silence in which Zack just stared at the girl and she, thankfully oblivious to this, dug around in her purse.
She looked up, bangs in her eyes. "Yeah, Lucy Parks," she replied almost proudly. She brushed her hair out of her face and recognized the extremely tall boy. "Oh, you're in my choir class! Theodore, right?"
"That's me," Theo said, beaming. "Your voice is amazing, I'd recognize it anywhere. Nice song choice, by the way. Celine Dion, right?" he laughed.
Lucy Parks pouted a bit, "The Glee version," she said, as if this somehow made something better. "And thanks," pause, "I love singing." There was an intense ferocity in the way she said it.
"Me too!" there was Theo with his childish giddiness again, and his light green tights. Zack's gut tightened without warning. Why did that sound so familiar; childish and green tights?
"You were awesome," Vince said to Lucy, smirking.
Vincent Archer, the archer. Something struck the same gut feeling in Zack. Vince was cool. He was saving kids from bullies. Helping the less fortunate, or shall we say "poor" from the, shall we say, "rich."
Why was that so familiar?
Zack was starting to feel a strange pattern. While the other three chatted aimlessly about singing, he mulled things over in his mind. He thought of everyone he'd met so far.
Julian was a stuck up pretty boy with a proper way of speaking, not to mention a charming smile. He seemed to be in love with himself, and was no doubt a ladies' man. Vince was a good guy hero-type and also an archer. He was a legend for helping out the little guy. And Theodore was like a little kid still, he didn't like school or work. And he was currently dressed in a ballet leotard and light green tights, unsuccessfully hidden under his coat.
Then it hit him, full on. The force of his realization nearly scooped him off the stone bench and shot him skyward to Mars.
Zack knew, at that moment, he had come across Robin Hood, Prince Charming and Peter Pan. And this was Fable Academy. Why had it taken him so long so figure out? Fable, as in story, tale, work of fiction...
Zackary Foster had applied and been accepted into a fairy tale.
"Uh...Zack?"
"Zack Foster?"
"Hey! Dude!"
The look on our hero's face was quite frightening. He was staring wide-eyed back at them, and to make matters worse, his arms started flailing madly, everything clicking into place in his mind. All of a sudden, Zack shot up and bolted from the rose garden, leaving the others confused.
Seconds later, still flailing, he dived out of the rose bushes. It had to be his messed up imagination, either that or a series of unusual coincidences involving classic fairy tales. He ran his hands through his sandy hair, making it stand on end.
Zack blinked around in the mid-afternoon sunlight in the middle of the mowed field. He squinted up at the Main Hall.
"It's a freaking castle!" he laughed robotically for a good thirty seconds, then stopped to sigh shakily and sink to his knees. Zack's fingers splayed over his face tragically. He'd left his bags at the bench in the rose garden. He was also positive the others would think he was insane. He himself thought he was insane.
Obviously he wasn't living any kind of storybook or fairy tale. He'd forgotten a couple of people too, now that he thought about it.
Travis the bully was a big scary beast who yelled and terrified people.
So, he was The Beast from Beauty and the Beast, maybe? But The Beast turned out to be good in the end, and Zack was positive that Travis was a ruthless jerk who would spend eternity roughing up innocent people, failing classes, insulting and farting everywhere.
And then there was Lucy. Lucy Parks, the singer. He'd known her for about two minutes. Maybe it was simply too early to tell, but he had absolutely no idea in her case. Maybe some beautiful princess with an amazing singing voice that would bring anybody to stunned silence.
Or maybe she wasn't a character at all, and neither was Travis and neither were any of them because he wasn't living out some strange storybook fantasy and he should just pull himself together before he lost any chance of having friends.
Zack sighed and straightened up. That was it. That was definitely it.
"Crrroak."
Jumping backwards and landing painfully on his backside, Zack found himself feet from the same palm-sized bullfrog from before. The creature's plump lips were spread across her face in a smirk.
"Oh, hello Mister Frog," Zack grumbled, not surprised somehow. She (a female) croaked back indignantly, as offended as a frog could get. Which was tremendously offended, mind you. How dare he refer to her as male! That scum!
She began to hop off, huffily. "Wait! Come back!" he stumbled to his feet and followed her at a swift jog. Who knew frogs could hop so fast? "Froggy, come here!" Zack didn't know what possessed him to say that, or to be chasing after her in the first place, but he couldn't very well give up until he caught her.
After chasing her well away from the rose garden, Zack got fed up and lunged for the creature like a madman. He succeeded in cupping his hands around the slimy animal, and stood up proudly, taking a peek between his fingers. Annoyed frog eyes glared back at him.
"Excuse me. Are you lost, boy?"
Zack, sporting a crazed beaming face, looked up to see a trio of adults, and a trio of students, who were making their way across the grounds.
Our hero seemed to be meeting everyone in strange groups of three lately.
Meanwhile, the frog let out a bored ribbit from inside his cupped hands. The adults narrowed their eyes as Zack widened his smile.
"Oh, no, I'm new here. I'm being given an orientation tour," he said to the man who had spoken. He was no more than fifty years old. He wore a mask of wrinkles and circular spectacles. He was wearing a suit, an expression of pure evil and he was balding.
The authoritative man was clutching a student's ear, pinching it forcefully while the boy protested with an assortment of ouches and cuss words.
"You're being given an orientation tour by a frog?" the other two students stifled laughter but the balding man didn't seem amused. "Might I ask your name, boy?"
"Yessir, it's Zackary Foster," he said, "I would offer you my hand but—"
"Yeah, don't," the man released the other boy's ear, who let out a sigh of relief. His two friends grinned mischievously. "Ah, yes, Zackary Foster, I remember your name in our admissions list." He had a business-like tone. "My name is David Sinclair, I am the dean of this establishment. Who is currently responsible for you?"
"I am, sir! I'm sorry!"
Vince, Theo and Lucy had arrived at the scene, slightly out of breath and wearing confused faces. Vince, at the front, carried Zack's suitcase. Theo hugged Vince's bow in his arms awkwardly.
"Mister Archer. Mister Powell, Miss Parks," Sinclair regarded each of them in turn. Zack remembered what Theo had said earlier, about Sinclair's mind working in mysterious and treacherous ways. He gulped.
Dean Sinclair turned back to Zack, who was still holding the frog in his hands and felt repulsed from the sliminess, knowing it was frog mucus. "Mister Foster, it just so happens that these three rowdy peers of yours—" his cold gaze fell on the boy he had been pinching the ear of, and his two friends. They each grinned sheepishly, almost identically.
Zack realized that these were the three boys who had knocked him over when he had first arrived.
Sinclair frowned. "These boys caused an explosion so destructive in the chemistry lab that it blew the classroom door off its hinges and oozed unknown chemicals in through Miss Burkhart's and Mister Cross' classrooms." the man nodded to his two coworkers. "It left quite a mess."
Zack raised an eyebrow, wondering what any of this had to do with him.
"We were going back for Ryan's chemistry book—" the tallest boy began, he had sandy blonde hair, a close shade to Zack's, but lighter.
"—And Miss Emerson had left out a bubbling vile of something—" the next boy continued, his hair was more of a golden blonde, flecked with brown.
"—And we were curious, all right?" the stockiest in build ended. At first glance, the three boys were identical. The reason for this was because, in short, they were all blonde, mischievous looking punks. Their uniforms were untidy; ties loosened, grass stained pants and shirts half-tucked.
"You left a vile pigsty in my room..." one of the quiet teachers said calmly. He was a gaunt, pale man with pronounced red lips. His hair was oily black and he held his scrawny self in his folded arms protectively. Theo jabbed Zack in the ribs and mouthed: That's Cross.
"Mine too," the other teacher added. A woman, dressed in a light pink dress and matching hair bow. She had perfectly curled ginger locks and held a conductor's baton decorated with a plush star at the tip. It reminded Zack of a magic wand. "I'm Miss Burkhart, the choir director. Nice to meet you, Zack." she observed him kindly. Her voice was melodic and soothing.
"Well, you are still getting detention like I promised," the Dean assured them, as the three groaned.
"But look, he's got the frog!" one of them pointed out.
"The one you said we obviously stole—"
"Which we didn't! Now there's your proof!"
"You're always blaming us for things we don't do.
"Yeah! And why would we be in the biology room anyway?"
"We're taking chemistry."
"That's already way too much science for us."
"My brain might explode."
"D-did you want this frog back?" Zack asked Sinclair hesitantly.
"Yes. It belongs in the biology lab," the man extended his hands to Zack, who handed over the mucus-covered amphibian with relief. He had been starting to get used to the sliminess, which was quite worrying to him.
Zack wiped his hands on his jeans.
"Well, thank you. Now, let's deal with these pigs," Sinclair said, a sinister smile stretching across his face.
"See you in class," Cross hissed, as the unusual troop began to make its way back to the main building.
Zack stared at the slime on his hands. He already missed his daredevil friend. He had quickly gotten accustomed to the frog's jumpy legs, even though the sensation was strange and kind of repulsive at first, and the frog would not stop squirming.
The fifteen year old wondered if his experiences at Fable Academy would be similar. Sure, our hero he had freaked out over the coincidences, but maybe he could learn to live with them. They were only coincidences, after all.
But seriously, Zack thought to himself, as he looked back at the others and smiled cheerfully, there was only a slight chance that they were all actually fairy tale characters.
Tune in (I want to say next week?) for episode two; Goldilocks rooms with the Three Little Pigs?
Zack: Thanks for reading!
Vince: Why did you run off anyway?
Zack: ...I came to a sudden shocking realization...I don't take things well.
Theo: See ya next time everybody!
Travis: Don't let the door hit you on the way out. Oh wait, do.