Hey, so before you read, you should probably go and vote for which serial killer idea you like best if you haven't already! There is already one with the majority of the votes, but I want to get as many opinions as possible. Thanks, and enjoy this chapter.
ONCE UPON A TIME, a CHILD left home and embarked on a JOURNEY, seeking a HAPPY ENDING for himself.
He traveled to every corner of the world and saw many a great sight. However...he still felt as though he were missing a vital PIECE of himself. The CHILD soon realized that, for all the amazing things he had experienced, he still did not know what he sought in his own HAPPY ENDING. And so, he continues to wander to this day, seeking an END with no MEANING.
In the end, he had merely EXISTED.
He had never truly LIVED.
In the early hours of the morning, I slip away from the guild, still half dazed from lack of sleep. No longer is it a place where I can find safety and solace; the guild is teeming with annoyances that could betray me at any given moment. If I do stick around, I will either get stabbed in the back or subjected to another prolonged escape lecture. Both are fates I should like to avoid, if at all possible.
As soon as I step outside, I am greeted by the dawn. Prongs of light slice through the sky, splashes of orange and yellow against a cauliflower blue, as the sun rises from its slumber. If I have to be perfectly honest, it's breathtaking.
If only everything were as simple as this.
I breathe a sigh of relief, feeling a bit more at peace.
I know it won't last for long, though. Peace is but a fragile illusion. The slightest thing can upset its balance. And in this village...well, who knows how unstable everything is?
Knowing that my classmates could kill me at any given moment really limits my options. What I can do, where I can do it, when I can do it...even everyday tasks like bathing and eating can be put under high scrutiny. Food can be poisoned, and bathing leaves one vulnerable to attacks. I shiver at the thought.
You're fine as you are, I lie to myself, hoping to settle down my jitters. My sight spins a little, still light-headed from not getting proper rest. I squeeze my eyes shut to steady myself and continue repeating the mantra. It doesn't become any more effective.
Without vision to help me piece together a sense of the world around me, all I feel is the gentle wind on my face, and all I hear is the rustle of trees and leaves, swaying against each other. The familiar scents of earth and chlorophyll embrace me. Sunlight bathes me from head to toe, acting as a shield from the chilly air. It's soft and comforting.
Perhaps I can enjoy my solitude for a little while longer...E-Eh?
My eyes snap open. A slight pressure is being applied to my head, almost as though a small, plump animal had decided to use my hair as a roosting area or nest...no, not just any small, plump animal-an owl; an owl with a bow tie and monocle.
"Good morning, Miss Malgosia!" Fukushi chirps cheerily, leaning down to peer into my eyes. His feathers brush against my cheeks in a friendly gesture. "How are we today?"
"Uh..." My voice trails off, not quite sure how to react. I would typically freak out, but he seems too docile and sweet to shoo away. "Fine, I suppose."
"Hm...so you say," Fukushi muses, landing with a soft swoosh before me, "you look as though you haven't gotten a wink of sleep, young lady."
Darn; he hit the bull's eye. Am I just that easy to read? Or perhaps he's just a master at reading others in general? Whatever it is, I don't quite like it-I'd prefer to keep my thoughts and emotions to myself.
Warily eyeing my so-called Narrator, I say stubbornly, "W-Well, who needs sleep anyway?"
Fukushi cocks his head to one side, bringing a wing to his beak in a contemplative pose. It looks like the owl isn't willing to buy my crap, although he most certainly won't phrase it in a mean-spirited way. Instead of lecturing me on my sleeping patterns, however, Fukushi changes the topic of the conversation entirely.
"Goodness gracious; you're quite a Character, aren't you?" The owl shakes his head at me. "I can't seem to figure you out, Miss Malgosia."
"Excuse me?" I demand, narrowing my eyes at Fukushi. His remark sounded like a haphazardly thrown together insult-or maybe I'm just on edge from Monoryuu's Story alternations.
"Oh, my deepest apologies!" Fukushi sputters, realizing that his words could have been taken the wrong way. "What I mean to say, my dear girl, is that it is rather difficult for me to predict what your next move will be. For example, when that horrid Monoryuu announced to your fellow Characters that they should start doubting Mister Garmont...why, everyone started squabbling about and taking sides; but you did not. Before all of this mess...you weren't the least bit excited to meet your classmates! And even now, you deviate from the norm-you wish to remain here, while the others desire to leave."
"Is it wrong to be different?" I sigh, folding my arms across my chest and raising an eyebrow.
Fukushi responds with a chuckle. "No, I suppose not. After all, interesting Characters are what keep the Story alive and well."
This throws me for a loop. I furrow my brow in confusion. How odd-my entire life, people have been telling me to "do this" or "do that", saying that my behavior is irregular or strange. And then you have this talking owl, who is telling me to celebrate myself rather than be ashamed.
"Wait, really?" I inquire hesitantly, half expecting Fukushi to suddenly go back on his word.
"Certainly!" The owl replies promptly, confirming his earlier statement. "Hoo am I, as the Narrator, to question the actions of a Story's Characters? My role is to tell the Story as it plays out, and nothing more. On the other hand, you may act out the Story as you please."
"I suppose," I mumble off-handedly, glancing back at the sunrise. He's still using those cryptic phrases, I note silently. Story, Characters, Narrator...there must be some deeper meaning to them. "This hurts my head; all this stuff about Curses and escape."
"Oh dear...I wish there was some way I could help," Fukushi murmurs sadly, "I don't have quite enough power to break the Great Witch's Curse and set you free myself. I'm afraid I must rely on you and your own powers to do that."
"Heh...my own powers, right." I scoff, running both of my hands through my flaxen twin braids. I'm weak. I don't have anything strength to offer, I think to myself, heaving a deep sigh
"Say, is something troubling you?" Fukushi asks softly, sensing my distress. I can't seem to properly conceal anything from this feather ball, can I? Pursing my lips, I realize that my attempts to hide away are futile. I might as well just tell the truth with him.
"I don't know," I admit, bringing a hand to shield my eyes front the sun, slowly gathering strength as it rises higher and higher. It is a light at the end of the tunnel; a light that can blind you if you're not careful. "I never asked to be a part of this. It's bothersome to deal with...with all these people, and all these things at once."
"I see, I see. It must be quite a burden." Fukushi pauses, mulling over the idea to himself. I don't expect an owl, of all things, to be able to understand me, but to my surprise, he pipes up, "Would you hate me terribly if I were to offer you a piece of advice?"
"Depends," I counter cooly, "on what kind it is. But at this point, I guess I really don't care. Anything to make me feel more sane..."
"Alright then, make some friends," Fukushi states bluntly, staring at me dead in the eyes.
My jaw drops; my left eye begins twitching in disbelief. Of all the things Fukushi could have said...why, why, why did he have to bring that up?!
"W-What is that meant to help me accomplish?!" I sputter incomprehensibly, but I am quickly shushed by the Narrator.
"Just hear me out on this, Miss Malgosia!" Fukushi pleads. Once I quiet down, the owl continues his explanation, "It appears to me that you are very anxious about this whole situation-yet you forget, you are only one of many Characters. The others are here to support you, and one another. I know you don't exactly have a good first impression of them, but..."
"Because they're...they're weird!" I retort firmly, but the owl is quick to talk back.
"And you don't have any oddities?" Fukushi demands, sending me recoiling in shock. He lowers his tone, and continues, "There is a reason for everything, Miss Malgosia. I suspect that you have a perfectly good Story of your own to explain your behavior-and so do the other Characters. They may be odd or quirky, rude or downright detestable, but they are still people-people with Stories of their own to tell. But you'll never know why they act the way they do if you don't at least try to look past the superficial!
"It's like missing out on a good book just because the title wasn't interesting, or the cover page had a dull illustration, or the first chapter was so-so. Anyone can wear a facade and pass off as something else, but not just anyone can expose them-and that is why you must be the one to approach first."
"W-What makes you think I can?" I stammer, unable to throw together a more eloquent comeback.
"Well, if there's one thing I know about you, it's that you enjoy a good Story," Fukushi explains slowly, meticulously weaving his argument, "just apply that mindset of yours to your fellow Characters. Give them a second chance-you may find that you like what you discover. The bonds you forge will surely be stronger than any Curse imaginable!"
"But the new rules..." I shudder to even think about them. Kill or be killed.
"Forget them!" Fukushi orders lightheartedly, "As your Narrator, it goes without saying that I am a master of finding loopholes! If I cannot rewrite what has been changed, then I shall find a way around what already exists. You children may go about your day as normal; please, leave that nasty familiar to me!"
"Rather confident, aren't you?" I comment, impressed with the owl's dedication. "Your opponent is a magical entity, and yet you still refuse to give up."
"It's a little something called hope, my child." Fukushi grins-and I'm sure he would display his pearly whites if he had any. "I believe in the future you will create as Heroes-a future you can work towards together."
"Together..." I repeat the word, testing it in my tongue. It feels very foreign, like an unfamiliar taffy sticking to the roof of my mouth and various other crevices. Something inside of me savors the taste, satisfied with the bittersweet nature of the word. To-ge-theeer.
Tmp. Tmp. Tmp.
"Hm?" Fukushi peers around me at the sound of approaching footsteps. "Ah, salutations, Mister Garmont!"
I nearly choke on together.
Tossing a look over my shoulder, I catch a glimpse of Fukushi eagerly flapping over to rest on Zachariah's head. Without his suit of armor, the knight just looks like a normal pretty boy, touched by the light of dawn. He wears a strained, yet gentle expression and chuckles quietly as he eases Fukushi off of his hair. It's is quite different than how he usually is, with his boisterous laughter and grandiose speeches; it's a vulnerable part of him, I realize.
And in that moment, our eyes meet; blue and hazel.
Shit.
I stand there for a few moments, frozen in place and unsure of what to do or say. It is not until Fukushi jabs his beak into my side that I let out a high pitched yelp. A conversation is initiated.
"U-U-Uh!" I scramble around frantically to assemble decent sentences. The last thing I want Zachariah to know is that I was staring at him awkwardly. "G-G-Good m-m-morning!"
"Good morrow, milady." Zachariah replies, giving the tiniest of smiles. He quickly looks away, avoiding eye contact. Shame and guilt radiate from every pore on his body now that he has been exposed as a murderer-and some sick, twisted part of me is concerned for him.
"Are you okay?" I spit up-and I immediately regret it. Zachariah's head jerks back to face me, brows furrowed in a strange expression; a cross between confusion and jubilance. I struggle to cover up my nervousness with, "I-It's not like I'm worried about you or anything! Don't get the wrong idea! I-It's just odd to see you not so...loud and upbeat."
Good job, Estelle. You already fudged keeping your cool. I glance worriedly at Fukushi for social support, but the owl shrugs and gestures for me to continue. Well, thanks a lot for nothing.
"My sincerest apologies. The accursed reptilian...he dredged up some memories that I would rather not dwell on." Zachariah dips into a bow, head hung low. "I shall resume with the merriment and joy if it so pleases you-"
"N-NO! PLEASE, DON'T!" I interject, perhaps a bit too loudly. Zachariah leaps back, startled at my harsh tone. "Er, what I mean is...I-I don't want you to pretend to be happy just for my sake. So if you're sad or whatever, then act like it! J-Just cuz you're a knight doesn't mean you need to hide your weaknesses and behave like a dumb oaf all the time! In fact, trying to be the big hero only makes you feel annoying and fake!"
Okay, so maybe I could have phrased that a little better...but from the way Zachariah is beaming, I doubt he took any of it as an insult. He flings his arms out, as though to squeeze me tightly in an embrace, but thinks better of it and allows his arms to fall to his sides. Phew, crisis averted.
"I appreciate thy goodwill and kindness." The knight grins, this time bright and genuine. "Truly, I do."
My heart softens a bit at his expression. Maybe it's the way the morning light shines on him, or maybe it's the the chilled breeze has tinged his cheeks pink, but...in this moment, Zachariah is not a knight, nor an Elite. He is just...himself. A normal person effortlessly enjoying life.
"I'm not Kind; I'm Wise." I mutter, correcting him.
"The two are not mutually exclusive, milady," Zachariah replies cheerily. Now it's my turn to be bewildered. Did a semi-smart remark just come out of his mouth?
"That's a rather big phrase for you to use."
"Is it?" Zachariah laughs good naturedly, taking no offense as usual. "Milord generously provided me with a fine education while I served as an apprentice under him." The same master who ordered him to cut down his enemies...? Are we thinking of the same person?
"Was it really that important to your lord that you had a large vocabulary?"
"Milord expects every member of his court to be well versed in a wide variety of fields. He insisted on stitching lessons, tea brewing sessions, and tutoring in the musical and visual arts-though I was never quite gifted in those realms."
My eyes practically bulge of of their sockets. Sure, he might not be good at everything, but to have been exposed to all those activities...his master must have wanted him to be a jack-of-all-trades sort of squire. Zachariah is strangely not, by any means, sheltered or uncultured.
"Great, now I can't tell what to think of you!" I cry in exasperation, throwing both of my hands up in the air. I guess he's got not just brawns now, but brains as well? He certainly doesn't appear to apply that high class education of his on a regular basis!
To my surprise, this earns a chuckle out of Zachariah. "You remind me of home." He notes, his features taking on a melancholy hue. The knight clasps both of his hands together over his chest. "Perhaps that is why I find myself so fond of you, milady."
"You don't say..." I mutter, resisting the urge to facepalm. Zachariah's denseness-and his hidden bits of cleverness-never cease to amaze me. Based on how he has acted toward me in the past, I'd say he loves his homeland about as much as Monoryuu and Fukushi loathe each other. "That's...great."
This makes Zachariah's smile broaden even more. He mumbles something under his breath. I only catch, "You really are just like her..."
"What was that?" I ask, but I am denied a proper answer.
"Nothing, nothing." Zachariah insists, brushing off my question like it is a mere fly. "I was merely thinking of a companion of mine from back home." Again, he clutches a hand over his heart, a flicker of...pain?...flashing across his face for split second.
"Right." I say tersely, eyeing the knight in a somewhat more positive light. I suppose he isn't so bad when he's not putting up a tough, heroic front. As Zachariah is now, he reminds me of a little puppy, barking in circles and chasing his own tail. "You must have a lot of friends wherever you go, huh?"
"Not particularly-although I am flattered that you think I do-and certainly not after the incident with the reptilian beast..." Zachariah mutters, glancing away, eyes downcast. "I completely understand, though. It is dangerous to linger around one such as myself."
"I'll be the judge of that." I declare, placing my hands on my hips and pouting. Zachariah's lips tug up into a sorrowful smile.
"Yes, as I thought. You really do remind me of her..."
"Her, who?"
"As I've said before, an old friend. She bequeathed onto me my most prized possession," Zachariah hesitates and avoids my gaze, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. "Please, let us speak of this no more. We...we should not even be conversing in the first place."
"And why is that?"
"I am a murderer. I would not like for you to get involved in my affairs...lest you wish to end up like her, and many others. That is all." The knight says solemnly, his voice uncharacteristically grim. An eerie feeling spikes down my spine. What exactly happened to this friend of his? And why such a grave tone?
The knight, refusing to elaborate further, swerves and hastily begins marching away. Shoulders hunched, posture perfectly robotic.
"H-Hey, wait!" I call out to him instinctively, but realize that I don't really have any real reason to keep him here. I blurt out a random question. "What is Grohl like?! Why do I remind you of home?! Who is..." But he is already too far away for my words to reach him.
The mysterious knight who can be both intelligent and idiotic, rash and yet rational at the same time...It's frustrating to think that I can't piece together his entire Story with what I currently have-or anyone's Story, for that matter. The only tale I know is my own.
"You see, Miss Malgosia?" Fukushi inquires, finally piping up beside me. "There is more to every Character than meets the eye-you simply must put forth more effort to uncover it. And doesn't your heart feel more at ease now?"
"I have more questions than ever before," I argue back, "but..." My voice trails off, unable to say the last bit outloud. There's this weird thumping in my chest, like a rush of adrenaline or a slam of sugar. It's excitement; the thrill of piecing together Stories and making sense of them-the Stories of my classmates.
Yes, Fukushi.
My heart does feel more at ease.
But then there is Zachariah's, heavy with guilt. Some part of me pities him. The deaths of hundreds, maybe thousands, hang above, no doubt endlessly torturing him-and yet he is still able to put up a smile. He misses his home country, a place where he lost so much of what he once had, and yet he stands up to protect strangers. Indeed, the knight has a golden heart, riddled with fragments of the past.
And that's when I decide that I must finish what I've started-the knight's Story. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but one day. I will complete his tale and live to tell it.
Then, perhaps, he won't hurt as much.
Right?
"W-Wait up, Zachariah!"
So against my better judgement, I find myself scampering after someone I never thought I would. My scrawny legs don't have a chance in hell to keep up with him, but that doesn't keep me from trying. I actually think Zachariah must have purposefully slowed down, even if just to indulge me-or perhaps somewhere, deep, deep down, he seeks someone to hear him out, even when he says he doesn't.
Fukushi looks on, beaming.
"Art thou in need of my services?" Zachariah inquires, crossing his arms and cocking an eyebrow at me. I put a hand up, a silent gesture as I catch my breath, taking in huge gulps of air. I must be way out of shape-either that, or the knight is way too in shape. He takes this opportunity to continue, "If not, I would advise thee to keep thy distance."
"Er, no. I don't exactly need help with anything, but..." A torrent of stammering flows forth from my mouth. It seemed like the obvious thing to do a few moments ago, but now I'm not so sure what spurred me into chasing the knight down. I must look and sound like an idiot, just standing there with no clear motivation in mind.
I instinctively glance over my shoulder, expecting Fukushi to be there to offer me more advice, but the owl has departed. Does he really think I can do this on my own!? I pale, returning to a waiting knight-and I blurt out the first thing that comes into mind.
"L-Let's go on a walk!"
"...What?"
"A-A walk!" I echo, all whilst silently badgering myself for my lack of planning. "Nothing like strolling around to clear up your anxiety and stress! Ahahahahah..."
"With all due respect, milady, now is not the time for such pleasantries." Zachariah responds flatly, not at all amused. He lumbers past me, dismissing my suggestion. "I am not in need of thy pity."
"I don't pity you!" I exclaim in a rather haughty manner, pursing my lips tightly. "I-I'm just a little curious, is all! About the country you came from, and the customs and folklore, and your friends and family, and-"
"Trust me, you don't want to hear anything about it." Zachariah cuts in, not budging one bit. "You'd best be off to your guild room. It is safer there."
"You can't tell me what to do. This isn't the Middle Ages!" I declare, grappling onto one of the knight's arms with a pathetically tiny hand and tugging. "It's clear that something is weighing you down. You'd benefit from keeping your mind off of it!"
"I'd rather not," Zachariah sighs, cleanly ripping his arm from my grasp, "if I am to keep my allies safe, I must continue my morning patrol with the utmost of caution."
Grrrr! I'm frustrated with the entirety of this lout! His dedication to others is sickeningly sweet! And the basis for it is still vague and wholly unknown. Is there nothing I can do to pry open this stupefying enigma?
"Then at least let me join you on patrol!" I insist, furiously trailing after the knight. "I mean, there's nothing else for me to do in this backwater village! I might as well do something productive with my time!"
Zachariah comes to an abrupt halt. I smack into his back, recoiling as I rub at my nose, tears prickling at my eyes in pain. When my vision managed to clear up, I find the knight facing me-but that's not the scary part. No, what is truly unsettling is his expression.
His face is mostly devoid of all emotion, soulless and empty as a mannequin. The only part of him that gives away any sense of feeling is his eyes, suddenly sinister and foreboding. Fear races up, strangling me.
"And if I were to say that I would strike you down for considering that?" Zachariah asks, his dead voice but a harsh whisper. He suddenly seems indifferent to blood lust and death threats. In this one instance, I immediately believe that he has killed as many people as Monoryuu claims he has.
I freeze up and hold my ground-not because I'm particularly brave, but for the same reason a deer stops at approaching car headlights. Paralyzed with terror. But I've come too far to back down now. I must, against all odds, press forward.
"You wouldn't." I say slowly, not quite sure how to defend my decision. Luckily, an explanation dawns on me. "You may be a killer, but you have standards; truths and morals that you abide by." A code of chivalry that he would never dare break, I add silently.
Zachariah's gaze hardens, taken slightly shaken by my statement. I wonder if that was the response he had least expected, especially coming from me. We watch each other closely, locked in a staring contest.
Then...
The knight takes a step forward. Pauses. Glances at me. Waits-giving me an opportunity to flee, I realize, before he easily catches up to me.
I hold my position. Surely Zachariah can't be serious. He has to be bluffing. This is him we're talking about. The buffoon wouldn't harm me, not when he thinks he's my friend, and not with all his jabberwocky about protecting said friends.
Another step. Two, three. Then he takes off like a jet, bolting at me at maximum speed. I flinch as the knight extends his arms, reaching out to seize me. Did I make the wrong choice to trust him? I should have known better! I should have run when I had the chance! I should have-
And before I know it, Zachariah's hands are not choking up my neck and crushing my windpipe, but at my sides, hoisting me up into the air. My stomach clenches up. Oh no, not this again!
"Milady, milady~ Oh, your kindness knows no bounds! I am blessed to have been graced with thy presence!" Zachariah chirps in glee, twirling me around in rapid circles. My mouth flies open and I squeal in horror-at the speed he's moving at, my skirt must be flapping about and exposing my undesirables to the world!
"C-C-CEASE AND DESIST!" I bellow lividly, face flushed crimson red. I regret every nice and semi-nice thing I've said to him.
To my surprise, Zachariah immediately complies and places me back on the ground like a well-trained show dog. He wears a gigantic grin across his face. I refuse to put a positive adjective, such as "healthy" or "handsome" before "his face"; I'm irritated at the man!
"Y-You...YOU IDIOT!" I sputter, glaring at the knight. "What were you thinking?! You scared the living daylights out of me!"
"My apologies! 'Twas a test of thy faith before I could allow thee on patrol duty. Had you fled, I would have concluded that thou were too weak of heart to join me in my morning mission." And with that, Zachariah places a hand on my head, patting me like a child. "Was it not a brilliant idea?"
"No, it was NOT!" I counter, gritting my teeth together. "Can you at least try to be more-"
"My, my. Such crankiness first thing in the morning," a familiar, soft voice purrs, interjecting my sentence. Frieda steps out from the shadow of a building, a hand over her mouth. Eavesdropping...? "I should have known it was you two when I heard the racket."
"Ah, Lady Frieda! Good morrow!" Zachariah exclaims, waving eagerly at the Loyal composer. "Where might our other allies be?"
"Who knows? Stowed away in their rooms, probably." Frieda says coolly, shrugging. "I personally came out here to see what was making the obnoxious din."
"Were we really that loud?" I ask, flushing even deeper-this time in embarrassment.
The composer pushes up her gold rimmed glasses with two pointed fingers. "Perhaps you were, perhaps you weren't. My hearing is better than most others', remember?"
Right, that's how she found her way around in the woods during the Quest. Following the sounds of movement and distant dialogue. Lies, truths, feelings...everything can be heard in the voice, Frieda had once said, it is how the heart whispers to the outside world.
"Sorry for bothering you," I spit out sarcastically, earning a frigid, tight lipped smile from the musical Elite. The air is instantly charged with tension.
"No need to apologize," Frieda retorts, eyes calm and steely, "I imagine I must have startled you both by appearing out of nowhere. Still, I thought you might benefit from a little tip for your patrol."
"Oh! 'Twould be most appreciated!" Zachariah beams, jumping up like a puppy eager for a treat. Yeesh, he's so excitable and eager to please. A knight with the body of a great dane and the personality of chihuahua...what a combination!
"You want to help us?" I demand, staring at the composer in suspicion. She giggles, cradling a cheek in one hand, glancing at me sideways.
"I want to see how this plays out," Frieda corrects me, a twinkle of amusement in her dark pupils. "The adventures of fickle little Estelle and her precious lap dog, solving emotional turmoil left and right."
That sounds like the most boring thing I can possibly imagine.
"You..." I openly frown at her, wondering if the Loyal student is taking our situation seriously at all. She appears to be much more intent on enjoying events unfold before her rather than anything else. "You know what? Never mind. I have better things to do than listen to your drivel. What's this tip of yours?"
Frieda smiles mysteriously. "I heard a sob from the outskirts of the village. A poor soul crying their heart out..." Her pulsating eyes dart me to gauge my reaction. I gaze back warily. "Someone should go and comfort them."
"What?! From the outskirts of the village, you say?!" Zachariah gasps, lurching back in horror. "But the area outside is most perilous! Manifestations may attack at any given moment in time!"
"You'd better be on your way, then." Frieda suggests, tapping at an imaginary watch on her wrist. "The clock is going tick tock, tick tock."
"You heard Lady Frieda! Onward to victory!" Zachariah declares proudly, grabbing my by the arm and dragging me off. I grudgingly follow, shooting the composer an agitate look before she is out of sight. Hopefully, she stays out of mind, too.
*ZACHARIAH GARMONT'S STORY UPDATED!*
{Zachariah hails from the European country of Grohl, faithfully carrying out his master's orders, no matter how cruel. Although eccentric and a bit dense, he is also quite cultured and has a strong sense of justice. He has his "special something" on him at all times, apparently a gift from an old friend, whom Estelle reminds him of. Zachariah is not very likely to talk about his past, and would rather not dwell on it.}
"...You may come out now."
"..."
"I know you're there. Stop pretending that you are not. I easily heard your pathetic little wings swoop in."
"...Impressive, impressive! You've caught me red clawed! Well, I guess I should've expected no less from the Elite Composer! Good for you, missy! Give yourself a pat on the back!"
"Cut the crap. You've been spying on us for a while now, haven't you?"
"Heh, smart little bastard, aren't ya? So what if I have? I gotta keep track in case the corpse count goes up, right? And if no one decides to murder, then I just gotta push you noobs to murder!"
"Hm. The fact that you haven't made a move yet means you're plotting something."
"That's right...you have a problem with it? Like I said before...this is a fairy tale life of mutual killing...blood will be shed sooner or later..."
"Is this by order of the Author?"
"What makes you think an Author exists?"
"All this terminology you throw around...the Story, the Curse, the Characters...it makes it sound as though this were a piece of literature. And in literature, the one who penned it must exist somewhere. Do you take your orders from an Author?"
"Stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, girlie! Whether he is real or fake or good or bad doesn't concern you!"
"Of course it does! It does because our lives are on the line. Now tell me!"
"Hell no! Piss off, ya great big wuss!"
"How mature of you."
"Look...you're not important in the long run, so just give up...You don't realize it now, but the owl is playing you guys for fools too..."
"Fukushi has done nothing to warrant our hatred, unlike you."
"See, see? Foofy is deceiving you already! He may act all cute and innocent, but he plays favorites!"
"Favorites? I don't understand..."
"From the very beginning, even before the Story was changed, he had a Protagonist picked out. The one he thinks will lead you shits to a Happy Ending! And now that it's a fairy tale life of mutual killin', Foofy's determined to keep the Protag alive. Screw everyone else! But if the Protag dies, the owl's plans went down the goddamn toilet."
"..."
"Hey, don't gimme that look! At least I'm fair! I want ALL of you to perish, not MOST of you to perish! Isn't that better?"
"I don't believe this-no, I don't believe you."
"Well, you should...You see, everyone has their own agenda. You don't have a right to criticize it, do you? Now...if you'll excuse me...I'm gonna go back to plotting my next move, as you called it...The next time you see me..."
"...You'll be giving us a motive for murder, won't you?"
"I don't need to do that, silly! The cogs have already started spinning. The existence of a traitor, the armored murderer in your midst, the chance to escape...isn't that already motive enough?"
"You want us to tear each other apart of our own accord, then."
"Duuuuh! Of course I do! Cuz that's the bestest Story of all!"
"You're sick."
"Mweeheeheehee! Why, thank you!"
Zachariah and I come across one of the least likely candidates for crying just outside the village gates. Her golden hair stands out from behind a curtain of viridian leaves. Well, and no other student I know of lounges about in the tree tops quite like she does.
The Courageous student is quick to notice us.
"Well, lookee here!" Mana calls out, looking down on Zachariah and I from above. "You guys are a sight for sore eyes! Bubbles and Charming, sittin' in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g! First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Bubbles with a baby carriage!"
Zachariah frowns at her childish teasing. I'm not sure what part of it is repulsive to him, but I personally find every aspect of it disgusting. I feel like puking a little in my mouth. For once, we have the same (or at least a similar) reaction towards something.
"You're the one sitting in a tree!" I retort, not in the mood to get further sassed. The mercenary rolls her eyes, clearly not taking my words seriously.
"Lady Mana, we beseech you to return to the village!" Zachariah pleads frantically, "'Tis unsafe out in the wild! Any manner of Manifestation or witchcraft could plague thee!"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Mana sighs, making a clicking noise with her tongue against the back of her teeth. In one swift, elegant arc, she lands on her feet before us. Putting her hands on her hips, she raises an offended eyebrow at Zachariah. "What, you think I can't defend myself, pretty boy?"
The knight meets her challenging gaze and says slowly, "I do not believe any of us are in a position to battle a Manifestation-not alone, at the very least."
"Smart answer. Better than the stuff you yelled before about protecting the weak and helpless. Looks like you can teach an old dog new tricks after all." Mana comments, pulling back from what was about to become a full blown verbal assault. Her eyes pass over to me. The mercenary's lips curl up into a sly smile. "Ain't he a peach, Bubbles?"
"He's a fleshy human potato sack." I reply flatly. I don't expect my lame attempt at making a joke to go over very well.
"Potato sack? Eh, that's quite specific. Why not a different vegetable? Eggplants are more skin-like than potatoes!"
I gawk at the Courageous girl. It's not like her to be this random and flattering, even if it isn't exactly entirely non sarcastic. She must be hiding something, or at the very least diverting the topic.
I stare harder at Mana's face. Upon closer inspection, her cheeks are tinged a little pink, and there are very faint streaks, most likely left behind by tears. It seems that Frieda was right about her tip-but Mana? Really? Mana, of all people, sobbing by herself in the woods? Over what?
"Hey," I pipe up, "you were definitely crying earlier, weren't you?" This earns me a long, hard look from the mercenary.
"No, I wasn't." She informs me, her voice taking on a mild sharp edge. That's enough of a quiet threat for me to back off-at least for now. I don't want to get into any more trouble than it's worth.
"My mistake," I mutter, averting my eyes. I'm not going to stick my neck out for her. The conversation dwindles into an awkward silence until a happy-go-lucky knight goes and shatters it.
"Are you absolutely sure?" Zachariah demands, dropping his flowery speech in favor for a more serious tone. He peers closely at Mana's face, only a few inches away from his forehead knocking up against hers.
"Never been more sure, Charming!" The mercenary insists, snapping at him like a piranha fish. Her cheeks flare up angrily, and she takes a hasty step back.
"Methinks thou dost spout lies, Lady Mana." Zachariah states bluntly. He brings himself closer, staring her down, only an inch or so away now. If I were in Mana's position, I would feel quite intimidated. "Lady Frieda advised us that you were feeling most unwell, so-,
"What gives you-or her-the right to say that?!" The Courageous girl sputters, shoving Zachariah away with both hands, "And you stay the hell out of my personal space-"
What happens next occurs all too quickly for me, and for even Mana to react to. In the next moment, Zachariah falls forward, arms encircling the mercenary before him and pulling her into a hug. A chorus of near incomprehensible gibberish erupts from both my mouth and Mana's.
"Wh-Wh-What are you doing?!" the mercenary shouts, twisting herself wildly in a desperate attempt to escape. But Zachariah's grip is iron and holds her still.
He says nothing to Mana, hugging her and hugging her until she pipes down and stops struggling. At long last, he lets go. Mana is no longer gaping; she instead purses her lips, eyes tightlined with wetness. The mercenary sighs, sniffling a little.
"Heh, showing sympathy will only get you a knife to your back in the future." She mumbles, staring at her feet. Mana doesn't want us to see the tears.
"I understand what is it like to be judged by thy talent. In times like these, we must lend each other helping hands." Zachariah replies-and in the back of my mind, something clicks.
Mana, too, is like Zachariah. A mercenary who kills for money and a knight who kills in the name of his master, both alienated in the world. They cling onto what they value the most, for everyone else rejects them. That is why she weeps.
I gape at the knight. The buffoon figured it out before I could. This is something that lies beyond my understanding as a Wise student. No, this has quickly become a matter of something I can't possibly comprehend.
"We will leave you be." Zachariah murmurs, turning away. "I apologize for my earlier actions." He glances at me over his shoulder. "Come, milady. Let us continue our patrol elsewhere." I take a step to pursue him, but get stopped right in my tracks.
"Hold it, Charming," Mana cries, abruptly wrapping an arm around my shoulder, "I gotta have a little chat with Bubbles. Girl talk, ya know? She'll catch up with you soon." I shudder, staring at the mercenary in confusion.
"As you wish." Zachariah nods, marching off to a safe distance to grant us some privacy. My insides lurch, unsure of what Mana could possibly want to speak with me about.
"Soooo, Estelle." My head jolts up. I eye Mana with much wariness. She actually called me by my real name, I gasp, legitimately shocked. "Listen, about Zach..."
"What about him?"
"I know you may not like the guy, but even you must realize it by now. He's over the top, but he also has a good heart." When I don't respond, Mana continues, "At least his kills are in the name of his master, even if it is hella fucked up.
"I kill for cash because I have to. I have many masters, masters with no faces. The richer, the better. It doesn't matter who they want me to kill, cuz I'll do it for the right amount of coin. I've killed the elderly, the handicapped, mothers, fathers, and kids-I'm not honorable like he is. He deserves to get treated better than this; he needs more friends."
"Why am I the one being lectured on this?" I dare to inquire, earning a half-lidded stare from Mana. She is apparently unamused.
"Distrust makes us bitter and hateful people." She clarifies, eyes narrowing. Mana forces me closer and she hisses in my ear, "I learned that the hard way in my old mercenary's guild. That's why I left for good. When you're graced with the chance to change your ways and make friends, don't just throw it on the ground and shit on it. That goes for both you and m-"
At the last moment, she doesn't bother finishing her final remark. With her spiel done, Mana pushes me hurtling back with a half forced laugh. Part of me wonders if the Courageous girl was referring to herself as desperate for companionship. I do not completely dismiss the notion.
"Have fun with him, Bubbles." the mercenary says with a cat-like grin. "Don't be dead the next time I see ya, 'kay?" And then she bounds by me, gone like the wind.
"All set, milady?" Zachariah calls from afar, his voice echoing off the rustic village roofs. I stare back at him, still somewhat bewildered from the talk with Mana. Shaking off the eerie feeling crawling up my spine, I nod at the knight and resume patrol with him.
We must all have more in common then we think we do.
*MANA FARVEOU'S STORY UPDATED!*
{Mana is a member of a mercenary's guild known for distrust and cruelty. After leaving due to differences in ideals, she continued to take freelancing jobs in order to sustain herself. She seems to place high value in forming friendships with other people, but barely has any real friends of her own. Mana denies being weak hearted, but she has a soft side for those that have similar struggles as herself.}
Later that night, I have a dreamless sleep.
It is, perhaps, worse than a nightmare. I float amidst a dark sea, submerged in everything and yet nothing at the same time. Light clashes with shadow, but ultimately cannot reach me, laid out in a glass coffin.
Without my dreams, I find myself awake and staring at the guild ceiling under the veil of twilight. The silver moon and stars peer at me through my window. My loneliness is illuminated under the night's discerning eye.
I am tired, and yet restless.
The mysteries have piled up, creating a mountain out of a mole hill. This Story, that Story, kill or be killed, monsters and magic...Mana and Zachariah, good or bad? Without the answers I seek, I can only sit and wonder until all my hair falls out.
Again, my pursuit of knowledge is disrupting my sanity. It's starting to interfere with my sleeping patterns. With time, it will only worsen.
I will likely never rest peacefully again.
...And that's when I have a crazy idea.
Take a midnight stroll.
From within me, my common sense says it is a horrible idea. An angel on my shoulder points out, Remember what Carina said? If you step outside the guild at night, someone can attack you, and no one would be all the wiser. A demon on my other shoulder argues, Come on! If you can't sleep, then tire yourself out. Don't worry. No one else will be awake at this hour. You'll be fine.
It boils down to one main question.
Not how much I trust myself, but how much I trust them; the other Elites.
I think of Zachariah and Mana. Of their moronic antics, and also of their better fronts. Like a coin with two sides. Black and white, dark and light, wrong and right.
I don't know what I believe in anymore.
I swallow the hard lump in my throat. Cold sweat beads on my forehead. My hands are clammy and feel dead. But I creak out of my bed of straw and I throw on my fire proof red cloak, bracing myself for the chilly night.
At the front doors to the guild, I pause, giving myself the chance to rethink my next move. In a guilty gesture, I look to own feet, praying that this decision will not cost me my life. Hm? That's odd-there is a powdery white substance scattered about the entryway. I don't think anything of it; it's just a random spill.
Breathe in, breathe out. Giving my bed room one last look over my shoulder, I slip out and vanish into the night.
It is rather difficult for me to predict what your next move will be, Fukushi had said.
Yes, yes it certainly is.
The wind is like a knife to my cheeks, but the sharp click of my feet against cobblestone paths calms my nerves. It is rhythmic and drum-like, music against the pavement. I can go anywhere in the village, I think to myself, rather pleased at the illusion of freedom.
I suppose I can look at the stores around the village square. They had a lot of neat wares I didn't get a good chance to look at before. My eyes run over the array of wooden shop signs hanging above entrance ways.
The baker's.
The candlestick maker's. As I walk by this particular store, I nearly trip myself on a wooden plank hastily thrown to the ground. That's strange...that wasn't there before. But I must continue into the night.
The-
A sharp pang assaults my nostrils as I pass the butcher's. It is a smell akin to rusting nails and fading lights. Fresh blood-and not coming from inside the shop, I realize. My insides go cold, colder than the night breeze.
Staring at the glass of the butcher's, I see the reflection of the water fountain and all of its intricacies. The haunting story figures depicted along the base cackles quietly at me. Dead in the center, a blindfolded statue weeps bitter tears, water pooling below her. A groan comes from the other side of the fountain.
My chest tightens, my breathing growing shallow.
Someone is there.
"H-Hello?" I call out hesitantly, praying that I was just hearing things. Apparently, I am not. The groaning comes again, this time louder and clearly more pained. I quiver in place, frightened for my safety. I almost decide to flee before a different thought emerges.
What if it is not an attacker, but the attacked? A victim flickering between life and death, in need of medical attention? If so...
Before I know it, I leap into action, riddled with worry. I find myself rushing over to the fountain, my crimson hood and cape billowing behind me. And then, I see it-or rather, I see her.
A body is messily sprawled out, one side of her head swollen and pouring magenta blood onto the stone path. Although she is dressed in a golden Camelot Academy uniform, a jade pendant on a silver chain around her neck, I have never seen her before. Her limp, slender body is leaning against the base of the water fountain, pallid in the moonlight. The stranger's oriental features are clouded over, breaths sharp and jagged. Her waist length raven hair is a mess, totally disheveled and bloodied.
"A-Are you okay?!" I exclaim, scrambling to the girl's side. Putting my hands on her shoulders, I shake her clumsily. I feel a jolt against my skin-there is still a bit of life left in her. Slowly, she looks up to me, her eyes dull.
"Ah...it's...you..." the stranger mutters weakly. The girl struggles to sit up more properly, but ultimately fails.
"You...You know me?" I inquire of the stranger-but several moments pass and she doesn't respond. I begin to panic and shake her a second time. "H-Hey, stay with me now!' I snap, grabbing her consciousness again despite feeling woozy myself. It takes all of my willpower to not faint from the sight of the blood tricking down the right ride of her face. "W-Who did this to you?!"
"No...doesn't matter...not anymore..." the girl pauses, launching into a coughing fit. Upon finally settling down, she adds, "Save...yourself...from the one that does not belong in the Story...the interloper; the Self Insert..."
"W-What are you saying?! Of course it matters who attacked you...! Don't try to change the subject!" I command, but the stranger doesn't bother to answer. Either she is running out of energy fast, or my words have fallen upon deaf ears. "L-Look, stay put! I'll run to the apothecary's and see what sort of medicine I can scrounge together!"
I start to stand up, but she manages to reach out and faintly tug on my arm. When I glance back at her, she wears a defeated, melancholy smile.
"I won't...make it..."
"You will!" I retort stubbornly, my voice spiking up and turning shrill. "You'll be fine! Y-You have to be! You-"
My blood freezes in my veins.
The arm tugging on my goes completely limp and drops. Her eyes flutter close for eternity. She looks serene and peaceful. And she is dead. Gone forever.
My breathing intensifies. Everything around me starts to spin and blur. Sounds seem muted and far away. Colors appear washed out and bleak. Nothing is as it was before, or will ever be.
A scream of terror erupts from my mouth.
Then the darkness embraces me.
"...I hope this was the right thing to do."
It begins now.
The fairy tale life of mutual killing.
The new Story.
The true first Chapter.
Hello, Danganronpa fans! =7=
Anyway, free time events will work a bit differently in this SYOC. Technically, baking with Priscilla and Lance was considered a FTE, but the E-Scrolls did not update, and while talking to Zach and Mana was not a FTE, but the E-Scrolls did update. The E-Scrolls with automatically update whenever new information about a student is gleaned, especially pertaining to their past. This can happen inside of FTEs (doing activities with other students) or outside of FTEs (just randomly talking to them).
Hey, so for future chapters, I will respond to the previous chapter's reviews in the beginning. I will not publicly respond to reviews via PM just to respect the privacy of those individuals. Thanks, and enjoy!
Shaggy Rower: Yup, I will be updating more frequently now that summer is here. Hope you liked chapter 8!
PoisonBanana: Yes siree Bob, I'm back. Because I'm such a horrible person, I like piling on the guilt and shame onto the characters. It's Zach's turn this particular chapter, but I'm sure everyone will get hit with the pain train sooner or later. Can't wait to get the killing game started.
I have decided that about every 10 chapters, there will be an easter egg of some sort. Chapter 10 will be an anime opening sequence for OMMM, featuring altered lyrics and the Elites, of course. If you have ideas for the opening, FTEs, or for future easter eggs, please let me know.
Investigation starts soon; don't miss it! Also, 125% more tsundere...?
See you all (hopefully) next time!