ONCE UPON A TIME, a HERO was called to ACTION-but the HERO refused to ACT.
And...that's it.
You cannot have a STORY if the HERO does not wish for one to occur.
...Or can you?
"This is absolutely crazy," I mutter under my breath, throwing my hood up and tugging my crimson cloak tightly around myself. Flanked on either side of me are Frieda and Zachariah (the later wielding a lit torch), while Ricard is up front, the teeth of his rifle ready to sink its fangs into something, anything.
The woods have taken on a dark chill during the night time, causing my words to spiral forth as a white puff of air. Hanging high overhead is the moon, gazing at us poor, unfortunate souls from behind various treetops. The stars twinkle softly, clashing with the eerie glow of fire against our skin. Illuminated in the pale light, we are but virgin sacrifices awaiting slaughter at the hands of a wild beast.
I wonder what my mother and father would have to say about my situation. Their only child wandering the desolate woods with some strangers in weird cosplay...if they knew that enrolling me in Camelot would result in this, chances are, they wouldn't have forced me to accept the invitation in the first place.
"Ricard is the only one with a weapon," I point out to my group members as we tromp through the forest, "and do you honestly think bullets will work against a Manifestation? They're borne of Familiar Magic, remember? It can take on any form it wants! We'll be torn to shreds!"
"Let's try to not be so pessimistic," the Elite Hunter suggests, tossing a concerned glance over his shoulder. "From what Carina said, the Manifestation isn't capable of using Magic. So...it must use a normal animal form-and so long as it's in a familiar shape, I can probably...er...you know." Ricard pantomimes shooting a gun with his hands. He seems uncomfortable with the motion, playing it off with an anxious grin.
"It seems Sir Ricard will be outshining my combat skills tonight," Zachariah sighs, looking somewhat dejected, "for I am without a trusty sword or shield. Have faith in him, milady!"
"Quite right," Frieda chimes in softly, her voice nearly melding with the whistle of the wind, "and surely you don't take this foolish talk of Curses and Witches seriously. I would have expected more from a Wise student."
"And just what are you implying?" I demand haughtily, planting my hands on my hips.
The Elite Composer showcases a sly grin on the verge of dipping into dangerous smirk territory. "They're code words for something else, of course. Fukushi clarified a few of them for us. The Story encompasses the Woods and Village, the areas we occupy. We, the students, are called Characters. That must mean that those other vague terms refer to other things-after all, magic isn't real."
"Of course I know that!" I sputter back, annoyance ringing my cheeks pink. "All I'm saying is that we could have stayed safe and sound in Halkyonia, but noooo, we have to go hunting a creature whose face we don't even know instead! Look, being Characters doesn't protect us from harm out here-so it's better if we turn around and march back to the village right now."
"Where is thy sense of adventure, milady?" Zachariah gasps, appalled by my suggestion. The flames of his torch cast a golden glow on his enthusiastic face, throwing bits of light off of his armor. He's practically a human disco ball. "The adrenaline pumping through thy blood streams! The gale of wind whipping through thy hair! The call to action!"
The terror ripping through my gut, the wind howling at our demise, the world refusing me any semblance of peace and quiet...oh, yeah. How the hell could I ever lack a sense of adventure?
"Where is your sanity?" I mutter under my breath, averting my gaze before my retinas are permanently damaged.
"This is really the only option we have," Ricard calls from up front, "which is playing along with Fukushi's game. I mean, the little guy seemed pretty harmless to me. Plus, he was nice enough to tell us a way out. I think the Narrator means well-he's probably watching over us right, just like he was before, when I first met you, Estelle. He'll likely pop in if things get too messy for us. And besides, Fukushi wouldn't put up a Quest that we weren't capable of doing, right?"
Darn Ricard and his naivety.
"Yes, we must put our faith in the feathered demon for now!" Zachariah agrees, accompanied by a nod from Frieda. "He is but the only source of rhyme and reason in our current situation!"
And when exactly did the Elite Knight decide to follow a protocol of rhyme and reason? I want to inquire, but Frieda quickly adds her two cents in. Her dark eyes pulsate against the torchlight.
"Perhaps if we push Fukushi enough, he will share with us the true answers to our questions-or at the very least clues on the meanings of all his cryptic messages." She muses, putting a hand on her chin. "Hm...might any of you have thoughts as to what Magic may refer to?"
"Nope!" Zachariah admits optimistically, not quite taking the conversation seriously. Or maybe his head is just really that empty...
"Not really, sorry. I'm trying to focus on lookout duty." Ricard replies from ahead, taking careful steps as to not disturb the forest, despite its lack of wild life. At least that makes it easy to spot the Manifestation-it'd be the only animal (or animal-like creature) in the vicinity of the woods.
I slip into silence, contemplating the possibilities. A Witch used Magic to Curse the land...that would imply that the Witch was an influential figure-and then perhaps they misused what they had to hurt those around them? It makes sense in my mind, so I pipe up.
"...Maybe resources of some sort?" I offer, grabbing Frieda's attention. "The Witch had money or power, but then something went wrong and a tragedy resulted from it."
"That's as vague a response as Fukushi's answers to our questions," Frieda frowns, shaking her head in disappointment, "although I suppose that's a start."
"Well, we know it's probably not food," Ricard says, drumming his fingers against his rifle. Gazing ahead into inky darkness, he doesn't seem to pick up on anything. "The village had tons of it."
"Nor shelter or currency," Zachariah chips in, for once contributing to an intelligent, meaningful discussion. "There is an abundance of businesses and cottages."
"Then perhaps an invisible force?" I suggest, praying that if I drag on the conversation for long enough, we will get fed up with the search and retreat for the night. "Something that is there, but can't necessarily be seen or proven...like gravity, or inertia."
"Is it not much more simple to, say, drive another into ruin with physical materials rather than abstract ideas?" Frieda asks, "For example, if one were to take a pistol and shoot it at the heart, death would occur instantly...but if one were to implant the seeds of guilt into the mind, it would take much, much longer for a person to succumb to the pressure and kill themselves."
"W-Whoa, Frieda! Don't say dark things like that-you're starting to scare me!" Ricard pleads, whipping around to display a disturbed expression.
"My bad," the composer apologizes, concealing a small giggle. "But as I was saying, Estelle...what do you make of this?" Her haunting irises prod at me curiously.
"Fukushi never said whether the Curse's effects were sudden or cumulative," I reply tersely, "so we don't know for sure."
"We shall have to inquire this of the feathered demon upon our return to the village," Zachariah notes solemnly. "If only the accursed Manifestation would show its cowardly face, we would be back sooner."
"I hope it's not in a squirrel or bunny form...I don't want to hurt anything too small and cute-looking." Ricard mutters, glancing left and right for any moving shapes in the darkness.
"Would you rather it be a big bear capable of tearing through our flesh?" Frieda chuckles, earning another surprised squeak from the hunter.
"I just asked you nicely to stop that..." Ricard sighs, his muscles tensing. "Geez, are you purposefully trying to scare me?"
"I'm simply trying to keep you on your toes," Frieda insists innocently. "You really should keep better watch."
"I'm trying my best, but it's still pretty hard to see anything up ahead." Ricard admits, scratching the back of his head. "I wonder if the other groups are having any luck..."
"I'm sure they're getting along quite well!" Zachariah beams, clearly oblivious to the horrible classmate dynamics. Yes, Carina may have designed the groups based on individual skills and abilities, but willingness to effectively cooperate is definitely compromised.
I can only imagine that Johanna and Lance are already at each others' throats, while Jaxon is whining to Carina about how boring the expedition is. Mana is no doubt fearlessly leading her rag tag team in circles (with minimum complaints from Endi, Ellanora, and Thomas). Michael is likely goofing off somewhere, leaving Nissa petrified in the dark with Cado and Priscilla.
"We really are screwed," I remark to myself, face palming. Even if the Manifestation comes up as an innocent little woodland critter, it might actually do some damage to us if we can't stop bickering long enough to avoid being attacked.
"What was that?" Frieda cries, veering over to stare at me with her intense gaze.
"Nothing, nothing..." I grumble, denying guilt for my previous statement. The composer only narrows her eyes suspiciously at me.
"No, not you! I most certainly heard something...something odd." Frieda whispers sharply, slowly turning her head in all directions. "Something feral."
"Huh? I didn't hear anything." Ricard comments, continuing to make his way deeper and deeper into the forest. Not wanting to get left behind, we trail after the gunslinger.
"As did I, Lady Frieda," Zachariah chimes in-although with that thick skull of his, I doubt he can really perceive many fine details in his environment. The torch he wields casts eerie shadows upon each tree we pass.
"It must be the your imagination. Someone probably stepped on a twig." I point out, earning a grimace from the Loyal Elite, who draws to a halt. The wind picks up, throwing our cloaks and capes back, billowing in the breeze. Cold nips at our skin, like knives drawing across a fresh victim.
"Stop walking," Frieda commands seriously, "and listen carefully."
Of course, Ricard immediately complies, forcing Zachariah and I to do the same-lest we risk wandering into the dark defenseless. We stand there, straining our ears, waiting to pick up on...I'm-not-sure-what. Maybe I'm expecting a beastly roar, or some exaggerated moaning, but nothing comes to me.
"Frieda, I don't-" I begin to protest, only to get cut off almost immediately.
"Shhhh! Quiet!" the composer orders, silencing me. "Try harder. You'll hear it."
Although frustrated, I grunt and resume...uh, listening, I suppose. I make out the haunting song of wind, and maybe tree branches smacking against each other from the former. In the far distance, there come the muted voices of the other Elites. And then...
"Grrrrbahhhisssss..."
"Wh-What...what is..." I sputter incomprehensibly, my body locking up why I register it-a low, grisly purr that sends fear racing down my spine. I glance at Zachariah and Ricard to gauge their reactions.
"That's not a human noise," the Elite Hunter says slowly, his face petrified in a cross of terror and confusion, "and it's not like the call of any animal I've heard of."
"Perhaps...a new species?" Zachariah jokes lamely, trying to brighten up the gloomy mood. It doesn't work.
"Grrrrbahhhisssss..."
"Frieda...what is that supposed to be?" Ricard asks, quivering a little in his boots. "It sounds like someone forced a bunch of poor animals into a blender!"
"If I knew what it was, do you really think I'd stop and ask you to hear it for yourselves?" Frieda shoots back frostily, keeping her voice down.
"Grrrrbahhhisssss..."
The composer pales as the growl gets louder and louder-closer and closer, like a predator closing in on its prey. Ricard steadies his grip on his rifle. I take slow, shallow breathes, careful not to give away my presence. Even Zachariah poses, still as a statue, hoping to pass as inconspicuous, despite the lit torch he has been hauling around this entire time.
All of a sudden, the sound stops-and in the distance, a faint outline becomes vaguely visible. A shape that isn't quite humanoid, a creature on all fours. Ruby red, bloodshot eyes glimmer at us from pitch black darkness. They are gleeful and demented at the same time.
The Manifestation, I immediately think.
"Don't...move. And stay quiet." Ricard instructs us softly through anxiously gritted teeth. "Keep it calm...It won't hurt us if we just-"
"Be you the foul beast we have set out to slay?!" Zachariah bellows, oblivious to the Kind boy's advice-leave it to the Courageous student to pick fights with wild animals! He marches forward and positions himself beside Ricard, staring directly into the eyes of the unknown guest.
...Shit, I realize, using all of my willpower to not slap the knight silly. Of course the one loudmouth of the group has to ruin it for us.
"Zach, maybe it would be a good idea to be quiet..." Ricard suggests-but the knight completely snubs him, caught in the throes of confronting an enemy.
"Come hither! Reveal unto us thy ghastly face!" He continues, his voice revving up to an ear-shattering volume. Ricard, Frieda, and I collectively cringe, shielding our ears from being damaged. In the distance, the creature takes a step forward, still veiled mostly in darkness.
"Quit taunting it!" the Elite Composer spits out, temporarily losing her composure. Her eyes narrow into venomous slits. It's a bit too late for that, I note as Zach steamrolls on with his torrent of insults.
"Approach if you dare, vile ilk, hellish miscreant, roguish swine! We shall make you rue the day you were born of evil and set upon this world to ruin all that is good and beautiful!
"SHUT UP, ZACHARIAH!" I sputter, for each cluster of words only eggs on the Manifestation to inch closer and closer to us.
Slowly, but surely, it sweeps out of its cover of shadows and drifts toward our measly torch, a halo of light in a graveyard of depravity. Each of its features becomes sharper and more defined as it prowls on all fours. A snarl plays, followed by a hostile chorus of bleating and hisses. The head of a lion and goat, a snake head for a tail, leathery wings, and fangs as sharp as daggers...
Zachariah deflates, immediately losing his confident swagger. Ricard nearly drops his rifle in shock and fright. Frieda's mouth continuously opens and shuts like a gaping goldfish, but no words come out.
It's no singular monster, but an amalgamate of several; a mythical beast from Greek mythology.
A chimera.
"Stay back!" Zachariah barks, swinging his torch back and forth in a vain attempt to drive off the Manifestation. This only angers it even more, causing the chimera to bat its claws at us. Its monstrous roar resonates throughout the entire forest. "G-Gah!" The knight cries, falling back to avoid being tossed aside like a yarn ball by a kitten.
The chimera glowers at us, pouncing forward and sending our group scrambling in different directions to avoid getting crushed. Its snake head tail lashes out at me, not quite close enough to bite me and inject poison into my blood streams, but close enough for its reptilian tongue to dart forward and lick my nose. I am both horrified and disgusted.
"E-Eeeeek! K-Keep that thing away from me!" Frieda shrieks, her voice shrill and frantic. She, too, has forgotten about Ricard's advice to stay quiet. The chimera whips around to size her up, causing her to freeze up in place.
"Guys, stay calm, stay calm!" the hunter reminds us, terror painting his tone. "Try to distract it until-Ooffh!" In the middle of his sentence, Ricard is sent flying when the chimera suddenly darts forward, ramming him into a nearby tree. His rifle clatters to the ground beside him. The beast's lion head and goat head showcase twisted grins, relishing in Ricard's torture.
"S-Sir Ricard!" Zachariah gasps, gaping at the horrifying scene playing out before him. Before long, his face is flushed red with rage. Addressing the Manifestation, he yells, "I challenge thee to a dual, odious creature! Bare thy viscous fangs at I, and leave my comrade be!"
I'm still not entirely sure if the chimera can actually understand human speech, but it rapidly grows bored with Ricard and decides to hunt Zachariah instead. Veering around on its hind legs, it soars at the knight's general direction, wings outstretched, and lands before him with a thump. My eyes, affixed on the battle before me, do not allow my body to join them in combat, nor at the very least flee.
"Estelle!" Frieda hollers, staring wide-eyed at me, and snapping me out of my trance, "I-I'll try to find the other Elites. Until then, you need to keep yourself-and the boys-alive. Do you understand me?!"
"W-What?!" I stammer, looking at the composer in disbelief. "How am I supposed to-"
"Figure something out!" Frieda cuts me off, pointing to the chimera, who is fast approaching Zachariah. "Distract that thing until back-up comes!" She worriedly glances over at Ricard, who fumbles around in the dark for the familiar shape of his rifle.
"Easy for you to say! You won't be here!" I retort bitterly-but this earns me a glare from Frieda.
"I can use my ears to navigate! What do you have?!" She demands, the stress of the situation clearly eating away at her. "If you think I'll be abandoning you, you're wrong. I'm Loyal, remember?!" Then Frieda turns and soon darts off into nothingness, not giving me a chance to respond. I'm left with only the vague instructions to believe in her simply because of her faithfulness.
Crap, I think, honing in on the chimera, whose multiple jaws are snapping at Zachariah. The knight is dodging the bites with the grace of a feline, but he can't keep up forever. With no sword or shield, he is stuck with only the tactic of evasion. There's only so much he can do juggling a torch with that heavy armor on, and only so much protection the torch and armor can provide against the fangs of a monster.
I want to run. I'm quivering from head to toe, a dear caught in headlights. Still...
"It's nice to meet you, Estelle!"
"I look forward to getting to know you!"
"I hope we can be good friends!"
"Let me know if you have any questions, 'kay? I'd be happy to help!"
"We need to work together to get this done, you know?"
One thought appears clearly in my mind: Even if I don't exactly love my classmates, I can't just stand by and let them die. A surge of energy bolts up my spine, filling me with a strange sense of urgency, a need to act. Save him.
Before I know what I'm doing, I've launched myself at the back of the chimera, latching onto its tail and tugging with all my might. The Manifestation, of course, doesn't budge an inch, but the snake head has been temporarily subdued. It gazes at me with hideously hateful eyes, so I tighten my grip on its scaly hide to limit its mobility.
"GRRRRRROOOOH!" The two heads occupying the main body yelp in pain, bucking backwards to kick me off. When Zachariah gets a good look at what I'm doing, he horribly recoils with a slack jaw.
"M-Milady! What are you-" he begins, obviously appalled by my actions.
"Shut up and do some-thiiiiiiing!" I sputter indignantly, hanging onto the chimera's back and tail for dear life. It's hard to get my words out without my demented amusement park ride rattling to get me off.
"Er...h-hold on! I'm coming for you guys!" Ricard calls from the distance, having finally retrieved his rifle. The hunter races toward us, firearm in hand, locked and loaded.
The Manifestation's multiple ears perk up, picking up on Ricard's message. It swings around, swatting Zachariah flying into a nearby tree, and roars at Ricard. Stray embers from the torch fly out of his hands and catch fire onto the leaves and bark. Flames race along, passing its heat onto neighbors and sending the tree ablaze in seconds. The makings of a young forest fire flicker before our eyes.
Well, at least there are now no qualms about how to spot our location in the middle of the night-"EEEEP!" I let out a high-pitched scream as the chimera finally succeeds in kicking me off of its being. I collapse into the cool grass with a pounding headache and shockwaves of pain rippling throughout my entire body.
"M-Milady!" Zachariah cries, racing over to assess my condition-only to be met with the chimera's mocking snake head. "You do not terrify me, vile reptilian! Begone from my sight!" I try to move my lips to warn the knight to back off, but don't do it quickly enough.
The snake's scaly lips pull back into a crafty grin. It lunges forward like lightning, coiling itself around Zachariah like a lasso and constricting harshly. The knight, suddenly gasping for air, realizes his grave mistake. He struggles in futile against his confines, and from the forest floor, I cringe in horror.
The Manifestation, satisfied with having subdued two of its three opponents, directs its two main heads at Ricard. The hunter's rifle, guided under the veil of a burning tree, is aimed directly where the chimera's heart should be. In the middle of the chest, and slightly to the left...
"Look, I'm really sorry about this!" Ricard apologizes frantically, the hostile eyes of the chimera leering down at him, "B-But no one hurts my friends!" The three heads appear to chuckle in unison, mocking the hunter's semi-threat.
"D-Don't say I didn't warn you!" Ricard sputters, muttering one last apology before pulling the trigger. A gullet exits the barrel of his weapon and darts straight at the Manifestation with a deafening ring. Ricard jolts back from the recoil-but the chimera doesn't move.
"Wh-what? Why..." I stutter, slowly getting onto my knees-and then, I see it. Part of the chimera's flesh, the area where the heart is meant to be, has given way into a clean hole, allowing the bullet to safely pass through. Just as quickly has it had appeared, the hole soon covers itself up, fresh skin creeping over the hollow area like bandages.
That's not right, I realize. Chimera can't regenerate...
"Gnnnnkrgh!" Zachariah grunts against his restraints, the snake now tighter than ever on the knight. He looks as though he might pass out-or die. Ricard pales, disappointed at his lack of assistance.
"N-No!" I stumble forward a little, but immediately fall back onto my knees. My body is far too weak to attempt the same stunt I did before. But I can't just let him get killed!
What can I do? Do I have anything on me that can help? Only the E-Scroll and the nearly burnt barley bread, hard as a rock. Wait...hard as a rock?
I rustle into my leather pouch and fish out the terrible loaf. With its crisp, singed edges and flattened form, it feels like a somewhat lethal frisbee, and a decent makeshift weapon. Maybe, just maybe...
A melody of flying bullets interrupts my thoughts. Ricard is rapidly firing his ammunition at the chimera-in hopes of tiring it out, perhaps-but they do nothing. The Manifestation smirks, relishing in his despair.
Okay, focus on your aim, I tell myself quietly. Look at your target, step forward with the leg opposite of your throwing hand, keep your arm straight...Now!
I chuck the barley bread with as much force as I can possibly muster. My poor throwing abilities only get the loaf to weakly hit the chimera's tail, resulting a whole lot of nothing. I wither in embarrassment. We're all going to die because I believed in Frieda's loyalty and one measly piece of bread.
"Ssssssssss!" Abruptly, the snake begins to hiss, contorting itself into a knot of torment. It completely relaxes its grip on Zachariah, sending him falling to the ground and panting for air. The remainder of the Manifestation's body lurches back, howling horribly.
"W-What the..." I gape at the damage I have apparently inflicted upon the chimera tail. Have I underestimated the power of poorly crafted carbohydrates?
The snake head gives out with a volatile sigh, detaching from the main body. A cloud of steam erupts from the part where it falls from the bum, like a burn mark leftover from acid. Within seconds, it has begun to disintegrate into a pile of slimy splooge resembling crimson jelly. It hits me right there and then. The regeneration, the immunity to physical attacks, weakness to bread...maybe not the bread in particular, but the particularly high sodium content.
"Meat preserved with salt," I had explained to Lance, "that's how they kept edibles fresh without refrigeration in the old days."
"W-Whatever, it's not like that's important information or anything!"
I never thought I'd be saying this, but I really need to thank that brat for his awful measuring skills.
"That's no chimera," I croak, my voice hoarse and weak from having been thrashed about, "that's something else donning a chimera's shape and abilities! A creature with no actual skin and a high water content." That's why the salty bread made it react like that...
"That would have been most useful to know prior to entering the woods!" Zachariah cries, his face a strange shade of red and blue from exhilaration and oxygen deprivation. "We have nothing of the sort to combat the demon spawn with!"
"H-How was I supposed to have known then?!" I counter, only to get interrupted by Ricard.
"Watch out, Estelle!" the hunter shouts-but it's too late. Everything happens too fast for me to slow motion, here is what I remember: the Manifestation charging past Ricard, the Manifestation knocking Zachariah aside, the Manifestation right in front of me, jaws gaping open...
...and then a column of fire rising from its throat and for my face.
I instinctively duck down in my scarlet cloak and hood, preparing to accept my demise. I have no place to run to, no more methods to fight back. I'm a dead Elite.
Rest in peace, me.
And then I'm consumed in flames.
"...Huh?" I stare down at myself, singe free and safe. The Manifestation's flames have disintegrated upon contact with my clothing, leaving me with a warm, comforting feeling. They're fireproof, I realize-and suddenly, the slip of paper that Fukushi had included with the outfit makes sense.
It's dangerous to go alone. Take these; they will help you on your Quests.
Note to self: thank the magical talking owl Narrator thingy later for saving my bum from being burnt to a crisp.
The Manifestation, baffled at the lack of corpse before it, screams in rage. It raises its claws seemingly in slow motion, intent on murdering me in my little red riding hood.
"Estelle!" Ricard yelps, his handle on his rifle faltering. The hunter's face visibly falls when he hones in on the chimera poised over me.
"Milady!" Zachariah exclaims, lunging forward in vain, hand outstretched dramatically. He is too far away to make it in time to block the blow.
"HOLD IT, YOU YOUNGSTERS!" a familiar, squeaky voice declares from above. All heads, including the Manifestation's, crane up to see the figure of a ticked off Fukushi, its monocle glinting in the moonlight. "Just what do you think you're doing?!"
"F-Fukushi..." I sputter slowly, in complete and utter shock that the Narrator would so conveniently appear before us. "Why are you...eep!" I jolt up when I feel a warm hand on my shoulder, and gaze up at Frieda.
"I told you you could trust me-though I suppose that burning tree did make it all the easier to spot you from a mile away," the composer sighs, jabbing a finger at the trees surrounding the single one afire, "and look, I've brought help."
One by one, various Elites step out of the shadows. They are without weapons, but not without fury at the monster or concern for us. Some are clamoring to fight in our place, others are already preparing emergency medical supplies in case anything is broken. Fighters and supporters all gathered in one place...sixteen Elites united against a common enemy, working toward a common goal...
In that moment, Priscilla's odd baking metaphor resonates in my head.
"You're flour, Estelle! Flour makes up the majority of baking recipes. It's a very important ingredient-but no one ever eats raw flour, ya know. You need water for liquid, butter for richness, sugar for sweetness, baking soda for leavening, eggs for air...ya see what I mean?
"Flour can never be completely on its own. It needs other ingredients to bring out the best in its own flavor. They all help one another to create one big, delicious cake!"
"I think I'm actually glad to see these idiots for once..." I mutter under my breath, earning a smirk from Frieda.
"Fickle, aren't you, Estelle?" she giggles softly. I allow her this one moment as a silent thanks for not abandoning us.
"Our comrades! Oh, our glorious comrades!" Zachariah sniffs, about to burst out into tears of happiness. Honestly, I'm about to burst out into tears (of relief) myself.
The Manifestation, confused by the sudden appearance of a mob, whips its head around at various speakers. The constant conversation seems to be driving the creature mad. Its pupils dilate and contract rapidly, sweat starting to form on its face as it attempts to process all this new information.
"Everyone...Everyone is here!" Ricard gasps, unable to believe his eyes.
"'Course we are, Hippie Boy! We can't have you dyin' on us!" Mana cries, cheekily reassuring the hunter in her own weird way.
"I was startin' to itch for a fight," Johanna growls, smashing one fist into an open hand. "What better to do than rough up then some punk monster that thinks it can wail on us?"
"Yes, it seems the Manifestation has been misbehaving itself," Priscilla chirps, happily rapping a rolling pin against her wrist. "It needs to be dealt a lesson in manners."
"Yeesh, I wouldn't wanna piss you off..." Jaxon mutters to himself, shuffling a little bit away.
"Trust me, you don't." Lance grumbles, folding his arms across his chest. He then proceeds to address Zachariah. "I'm actually rather disappointed in you, human meat shield. I thought you'd put up more of a fight."
"He needs a proper weapon..." Cado notes to himself. Endi and Ellanora are clearly hidden behind the blacksmith, willing to stay out of sight.
"Ah, who cares about that?! My good luck charm kept them safe and sound! Thank goodness!" Nissa cheers, hopping up and down excitedly.
"Eh, maybe I should swipe that magic staff of yours, then. If it keeps mythological beasts from killin' me, it'd be worth it." Michael laughs cynically.
"Let's focus on the Manifestation, guys," Thomas suggests anxiously, backing up a bit from the scene. The chimera, at this point, has snapped out of bewilderment and has its attention trained on the circle of Elites surrounding it.
"Indeed. I say we rid ourselves of this being as soon as possible," Carina agrees, stepping up as leader of the Elites. Icarus straightens upon his master's shoulders, puffing his chest out in pride.
The chimera paws at the ground, imitating a bull ready to ram into bowling pins. A single tree is aflame, casting a ashy flow on the battlefield. Carina's eyes harden. "On my command, we collectively charge. Ready? G-"
"STOP EVERYTHIIIIING!" Fukushi screeches, throwing open his wings to display his entire wingspan. "Away with you, Manifestation of Slime!"
With that, a shower of iridescent feathers rains down, bathing us in a pearly light and putting out the lone flaming tree. The feathers seem to have the opposite effect on the Manifestation, acting more as piercing arrows than angelic radiance. The chimera-no, the slime-collapses, writhing in pain on the forest floor until it finally vanishes into nothingness.
My eyes widen in shock. For such a little guy, he vanquished the fire and that beast like it was nothing...and with freaking feathers, no less! First, bread saves the day, and now feathers?
"Aw, come on! I was gonna brawl with that thing!" Johanna groans, throwing her bulky arms into the air. "What the fuck did you do that for?!"
"For your information, Miss Zeal," Fukushi sputters, lowering himself from the night sky to root on a burnt tree branch, "I, as your humble Narrator, just 'effing' rescued you Characters from your terribly cruel, early demises!"
The owl glares down from his perch, making the majority of Elites either hang their head in shame or glance away from it. We are like children being berated for unnecessarily picking a fight with another student. It's strange, I note, that Fukushi scolds us like a parent would, and enforces rules on us for our own good. The Narrator...perhaps it truly is genuinely concerned for our safety?
"What were you kids thinking?!" Fukushi demands, flailing his wings wildly. "Rushing into such a high difficulty Quest right off the bat?! And with minimal preparation?! No weapons, just fancy clothes and some food and light?! Ludicrous! Blasphemy! Poppycock!"
"B-But..." Ellanora stammers, only to get cut off by the livid, ranting Narrator.
"You could have died out here! DIED! What's worse is that you had me worried SICK!" Fukushi cries, its tawny face burning red with anger. "The Witch, the Familiar, the Curse, the Manifestation! None of them care what happens to you, so long as they can eliminate hope-the hope that each of you provides as a Character in the Story! You cannot ever allow them to snuff it out from you! Never, ever, ever!"
"That's what we were trying to do in the first place." Endi explains nervously. "We embarked in this Quest hoping to get out sooner."
"We thought that collaborating would allow us to slay the Manifestation," Carina adds, clarifying for the craftsman. "though I suppose if anyone is to receive the blame, it should be me. I was the ringmaster of this operation. I organized this in accordance to the general consensus of my classmates. For this, I am sorry."
The falconer bows her head in apology to the owl, accepting responsibility for her own mistake. Endi glances at Carina uncomfortably, but then he, too, dips down. A chain reaction goes off. One Elite sends another Elite into a guilty state, and soon enough, everyone is either chorusing "sorry" or bowing to the Narrator. Even I find myself-as well as Lance and a few other stragglers-coughing up apologies to Fukushi.
It seems we share a newfound trust and respect for the fluffy critter. He is caring and grandfatherly, like a welcoming hug or a mug of hot cocoa. The owl is no longer an "it" in our eyes. He has an bigger identity now, a little niche in our hearts, as sappy as it sounds.
Fukushi's eyes soften. "Heroes must have patience and wait for their time to come before they act. Rashness leads to ruin, not retribution." He sighs, shaking his head at us. "I forgive you, my children, but please...do not take any future Quests without my approval! The last thing I want to see is a corpse washing up somewhere!"
"Maybe you shouldn't have posted such a hard Quest up then!" Mana scoffs quietly, rolling her eyes. "If you didn't want us to potentially take it, why put it up on the Quest Board in the first place?"
"That's right. Carina said most of the Quests were easy things, like fetching items. This was the only one out of place." Michael notes, his lips curving into a frown. "So what happened?"
Fukushi's face falls at the comment. "That's my line! I was planning on asking you kids how you came across that Quest! I don't remember putting up such a horribly mean mission for you to do! My policy is to post Quests corresponding to your current Level, which should all be set to 1..."
"Are you serious?!" Johanna gapes, balling her hands into meaty fists. "So someone fucking screwed with us by putting up some fake Quest?!"
"And we took the bait," Ricard notes, glancing down sadly at his rifle. Wasted ammunition and the scent of gunpowder cling to the air.
"That doesn't make sense," I point out, my voice finally having recovered from the shock of the chimera battle. "No one knew what a Manifestation was before the Quest was announced, but the Quest perfectly explained what they were. How could someone have put a fake up?
"Or maybe," Lance suggests, his suspicious gaze darting from face to face, "someone pretended to not know in order to lure us out to get slaughtered."
"Who...who would do such a thing?" Cado wonders, concern evident in his usually lax face.
"Someone in cahoots with the Familiar!" Fukushi screeches, coming to a sudden realization. "Th-There's a traitor amongst you children?! A traitor who wants to see the other Characters despair! Or maybe...multiple traitors?!"
A traitor...a killer in our midst...someone who would be giddy to see the streets running red with blood more than anything else...My entire body goes winter cold.
"W-What is this garbage?!" Fukushi demands to no one in particular. "This isn't supposed to happen! We need to focus on the Familiar, not worry about several things at one time! It's too much for me to handle!"
"Mweeheeheehee..." a strange , semi-robotic voice laughs, amused by the owl's panic. All heads veer to Lance, who only looks just as confused as the rest of us. The mysterious voice takes this moment to bolt up in shrillness and cackle, "I think it's high time for a Plot Twist, Fukushi."
A shadow darts out from a nearby tree, knocking Fukushi off of its perch and tumbling down. Luckily, Zachariah manages to dart up and catch the owl before he sustains any noticeable damage. The shadow snickers, claiming the Narrator's treetop position for itself.
I rub my eyes to make sure I'm seeing things correctly. Granted, I have seen a chimera today, but the creature now sitting on the burnt tree resembles a small reptilian plush toy, complete with horns, stubby claws, and a tiny, pathetic pair of wings. It is split down the middle, the left side black and sinister, and the right side white and cuddly. The eyes are mismatched too-one is a plain black one, the other is a diamond shape (or is that a four-pronged sparkle shape?) in a blood red color.
A dragon...a weird cyberpunk, emo dragon thing...
"It's you," Fukushi gasps, blatantly unhappy to see the monochrome reptile.
"That's right...it's-a me...a fat Italian plumber..." the dragon responds nonchalantly, cracking a bad joke whilst wearing a straight face.
"You're NOT welcome here!" Fukushi cries, craning his neck to address the creature while making fuming eye contact. "Leave now or-ow, ow, ow!" The owl slumps back into Zachariah's arms with a whimper. He still has a migraine from having been collided into head-first.
"A-Art thou safe, small and feathered one?" Zachariah asks Fukushi, no longer referring to the owl as a demon. Unfortunately, the Narrator seems to be far too concerned for our own safety to properly respond.
"Forget about me! G-Get back, children!" Fukushi commands, sending us recoiling at the grave tone of his voice. It glares spitefully at the dragon. "Th-That creature will bring ruin to anyone that dares draw close or is foolish enough to make a contract with it!"
"You don't need to be so melodramatic, my good owl..." the dragon drawls in a mocking monotone. Its voice implies that it is entirely disinterested in the discussion at hand. "What can a poor thing like me do against an army of high school students? I'll get beaten into a bloody pulp. Oh, boo hoo. Boo hoo hoo."
That didn't sound like very convincing fake crying...
"Sh-Shut it!" Fukushi snaps, surprisingly taking a hostile turn. "Don't be fooled, children! He will deceive you, then throw you into madness and abandon you there!
"Before you is Monoryuu, the Familiar of the Great Witch herself!"
The Great Witch's Familiar is a frightening entity that perpetuates the Curse. It wields the Magical remnants of the Witch that destroyed the land. And that very same Familiar, which manifested that chimera slime...the Familiar is this tiny lizard?
The Elites stare in unison, unsure of how such a small creature could be so...wicked, or sound like a prepubescent boy. Even Zachariah, who is usually the first to volunteer himself to combat, raises an eyebrow. No one attempts to question the reality of the situation. A talking owl and a talking dragon are having a debate in a charred tree-how much more surreal can this get?
"Me? Deceive them?" the dragon repeats slowly, tilting his head to one side. "I think you have it wrong, Fukushi..." He rises onto his stubby feet and twirls around, the winged reptile's body going entirely white with beady black eyes. At once, Monoryuu's voice becomes hyper energetic and squeaky. "Nah, naaaah! You have it soooo totes wrong! It's, like, the Story that's deceiving the Characters!"
"It changed colors and its personality completely, like a mood ring...!" Endi notes, fascinated at the dragon.
Monoryuu chuckles at the craftsman's observation before spinning around again, this time morphing into pitch black hue with demonic scarlet eyes. "Uh, hellz yeah, I can change color! 'N I can give ya sum 'o mah attitude too, punk, cuz I sure ain't no goddamn hunk 'o junk jewelry!"
Endi lurches backwards, not expecting sass from the reptile. Cado and Thomas exchange worried looks and make way for Endi to back up.
"Wh-What...N-Now the dragon is talking l-like a th-thug..." Ellanora stammers, looking faint. Frieda eyes the poor girl, but remains on standby.
"It's cute! Er, but also kinda creepy when it's unstable like that!" Nissa remarks, quick to comment on the hugability of the weird talking animals we come across.
"Like I said," Fukushi sputters weakly from Zachariah's arms, "don't be fooled by his cuteness! Monoryuu is pure evil! He wishes death and despair upon us all!" It pauses before adding, "Besides, everyone knows I'm WAY more adorable than he is!"
"Wow, that got off topic really quick!" Jaxon laughs, enjoying the oddness of the conversation. I suppose it befits him, given that he's daydreaming or dozing off half the time, too. Mana rolls her eyes at the wayfarer's hypocrisy.
To this, Monoryuu switches back to its dull black-and-white persona. "Eh...no way. You're a dumb bird. No one likes dumb birds. They're dumb...and also dumbish. Did I mention they were dumb?" Carina twitches with not-so-cleverly concealed rage. Icarus looks like he wants to sink his talons into the Familiar.
"That's repetitive! The Narrator in me simply cannot tolerate it!" Fukushi squawks, glaring at his counterpart. The owl resembles a strangely plump baby being cradled in Zachariah's arms. "You...you shouldn't even be here! You're forbidden to directly interfere with the Story!"
Back to its black dragon form. "Sez who? You, oh great-and-powerful Narrator? Those dumbass kiddos 'o yours? HAH! Don't you make me laugh! I can end all of you with a flick 'o mah wrist!"
"Don't you dare," Fukushi snarls, struggling to get back onto his feet, "the Story will not allow it! I will not allow it!"
"Yea? You wanna fight, bro?! Bring it!" Monoryuu challenges, displaying two rows of rounded teeth. He resembles a stuffed animal more than ever now. I feel like I'm watching a few toddlers argue over which superhero is the best, even if our situation is much darker than that.
"Those two remind me of you and Estelle," Priscilla notes absentmindedly, earning a venomous pout from the ventriloquist.
"I don't see the resemblance," he insists, his hands looking a bit empty without Mustachio Pete. Who knows how Lance would have reacted if Pete had gotten crushed by the Manifestation?
"Make all the threats you like!" Fukushi taunts, launching into another rant, "I know you don't have your full abilities back. My powers surpass yours, and I shall use them to protect these precious children! Then they will break your horrid Curse, whether you want them to or not!"
The dragon flips to his light face. "Awwww, but wittle ol' Monoryuu did nothing wroooong. I mean, all I did was rewrite your Story a teeny, tiny bit!"
"Something tells me that's definitely wrong," Michael grumbles, throwing his arms behind his head. The bandit is right, for one fraction of a second later, out Narrator practically loses it.
"Wh-Wh-Whaaaaat?!" Fukushi yelps, leaping up and flapping frantically over to Monoryuu, despite his injury. He plants his forehead on the dragon's so that that his beak grinds against the other's snout. "Impossible! The only one who may change the Story is-"
"And that's where you're wrong," Monoryuu says, bland and clearly bored, "So long as you have the right connections...anything is possible."
"P-Please wait!" Ricard calls nervously, finally deciding to interject between the two small creatures. "What do you mean when you say that you've changed the Story?"
"Mweeheeheehee! It's simple, bitch!" Dark Monoryuu sneers, eyes a deep, ominous crimson in the darkness of night. "Take a look at your E-Scrolls!"
"N-No! You couldn't have tampered with the E-Scrolls as well?!" Fukushi sputters, to which the dragon pulls a large, sadistically bright smile.
"Why don't 'cha see for yourself, Foofy?" Light Monoryuu asks, for I, along with many of my fellow Elites, have reluctantly taken out our magical scrolls. Honestly, I'm not expecting much aside from a few childish phrases and scribbles to be included in the text.
"Allow me to read that!" Fukushi requests, landing with a soft plop on my head. I don't bother protesting, for my eyes are glued to the horrific words on the parchment paper. Again, the words have been altered, but this time, the contents of the E-Scrolls are genuinely frightening.
The (New and Improved!) Laws of Storytelling are as follows:
1. All Characters must reside within the Village or its surrounding area, the Woods. It is recommended that Characters only venture into the Woods if necessary. Their safety is not guaranteed unless they remain on Village grounds, especially at night time, when Manifestations roam. Characters are, however, allowed to explore at their own discretion.
2. Night time is from 10 pm to 7 am. Some areas and buildings will be inaccessible to Characters at night.
3. The E-Scroll (short for Enchanted Scroll, for the curious children out there) must be kept on a Character's being at all times. It is an important part of your Village life and will frequently update with information.
4. Sleeping anywhere other than the Character Guild will be viewed as deviating from the Story and will result in punishment.
5. Destroying property and breaking into locked facilities is frowned upon, and will also result in punishment.
6. Violence against the Narrator, Fukushi, or the Familiar, Monoryuu, is strictly prohibited.
7. Characters may not leave the Story unless they kill another Character and avoid being found out.
8. Participating in Quests will reward you with no Experience. However, completing Quests will reward you with other things, such as useful items. The only way to gain Experience is by successfully catching a killer. Characters may still complete Quests either individually or in groups. The Quests that the Familiar deems mandatory require participation from all living Characters.
9. Characters may also choose to leave the Story if the Familiar is vanquished. But you can't possibly do that, mweeheeheehee!
10. Additional Storytelling laws may be added as necessary.
Have a happily ever after!
"Instead of bein' a fairy tale life of mutual questing...t's gonna be one of mutual killing..." Monoryuu chuckles darkly as the Elites slowly glance up from their scrolls. Our expressions are those of petrified fear. "Do you understand, you worthless Characters?"
In this world, it's kill or be killed.
"That person is still alive. This...it cannot happen."
"I know, I know. We must be rid of them, quickly..."
"What will you do about it? You're the one who set that thing free in the first place, and it has yet to do anything to help. Take some responsibility."
"I've got it. I don't need you telling me how to do this."
"Very well, if you insist. Do keep in mind that our superiors will not be pleased if this unauthorized activity continues without yielding results."
"I'm well aware. The Story exists for one reason and one reason only...the same reason for any tale to be passed from generation to generation."
"To preserve and protect."
"Of course."
Hello, Danganronpa fans! =7=
Yeesh, this chapter was a headache to write. I did bits and pieces of this between packing to return to university and scrambling to do paperwork for my job, then proofread and did major editing afterwards.
*insert sarcastic tone here* Oh nooo, there's a traitor in our midst? We're being forced into a killing game? There are cute talking animal mascots with quirky personalities? Gee, how original and completely unexpected! I do wonder what will happen.
Sigh...time to go back to school. This is very likely my last post for this month. =A= Hopefully I'll continue updating, although not as frequently. Thanks for your continued reviews and support, and see you next chapter!