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Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Chapter One

A single box arrived on the doorstep of Mr. Deauville's Storybook Shop, the day Sophie and Agatha disappeared, and red cloaked attackers along with them. The elders had just told the town at an assembly how Sophie bravely decided to give herself up in order to stop the attacks in town. Agatha, her best friend, had also decided to follow her.

Stefan was distraught at losing his only daughter, and was being comforted by his new wife, Honora and her sons Adam and Jacob. Callis, Agatha’s mother, could also be seen lurking in the edge of the crowd, equally upset.

The townsfolk gave them some space, as while they were still angry at the destruction of their shops and homes. They understood that it wasn’t anyone's fault but those damnable red cloaks, now that they were safe and their tempers had cooled, also aided by the knowledge that two young girls that have just returned gave themselves up to those dangerous assassins. They had even felt the stirrings of guilt for the two girls.

Spotting the package in front of his ruined shop after returning from the town gathering, Mr. Deauville's eyes widened. And widened even more at the sight of a singular thick tome, different from the usual stack of thinner books, its title bearing two very familiar names whose story should’ve already been well known to town with Sophie’s frequent play-reenactments of their adventure, but after only a few pages told a widely different tale.

Mr. Deauville took the tome, and rushed back to the square. While normally he would’ve taken the tale and spent a number of days in his store carefully mimicking its contents to a range of books for his excited customers, he felt that taking it into town and freely sharing it to the townsfolk would be more fitting to the current situation, not to mention the current state of his bookshop and the unlikeliness that he would be able to do his usual job anytime soon. Maybe it could even cheer the town up.

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Arriving just as people began to disperse, Mr. Deauville climbed to the wooden stage and announced, “Everyone! A new book has arrived from the School for Good and Evil.” he said, lifting the tome over his head.

The dispersing crowd began to gather once more, muttering with themselves.

One of the three elders came near, “Mr. Deauville may I inquire why you have come to announce it then? You would usually hide yourself up in your own shop before showing anyone the new tale.”

“With respect, sir. With the state of my own shop after the attack,” he replied politely, “I believe I wouldn’t be able to go back to business anytime soon. Which is why I came here to suggest whether our dearest townspeople would instead want to gather around and read together. Not only to be united after yesterday’s brutal attack, but also to cheer each other up and honor the two girls who sacrificed themselves for our safety.”

“Oh?” the elder asked, interestedly. The two others also coming near, also seeming interested in his idea. 

“The newest tale that has arrived was written about them, you see. The Tale of Sophie and Agatha ‘tis called.”

A child near enough to hear, scrunched up her face and said loudly, “But why should we read about them again? Sophie already told us of their adventures in that school when she was here. I heard and watched her plays enough times that I could recite all the lines of what happened in my sleep!” The girl’s mother hurriedly tried to shush her and pulled her away. Apologizing all the while for her daughter butting into the conversation between Mr. Deauville and the Elders. But the crowd began to make noises of agreement. 

Stefan pushed through the front of the crowd disheveled, “A fairytale? About Sophie?” He asked, eying the book in Mr. Deauville’s hands as if he wanted to pluck it and keep it to himself. 

Mr. Deauville’s heart broke at the sight of the distraught young man, still remembering the happy teenager that he had once been. And resolved with himself to give him the original copy of the tome, before responding to the crowd. “Everyone, please quiet down,” he started, “I have looked through the book and have determined that what is written within is a far different tale that young Sophie had told.”

Various whispers rushed through the crowd. They were now intrigued. How different could Sophie’s retelling be from what they presumed was the real tale written in the book?

The elders agreed to this book reading activity, with the large agreement of the crowd. Within minutes, all of town were gathered in the town square. Some brought chairs, others even brought drinks, but generally they all settled in attempting to find a comfortable spot for the next few hours.

When they were all ready, Mr. Deauville cleared his throat and began to read.

He showed the crowd the first page showing the crest of the mystical school and a short poem beneath it. “I believe this first page talks about the School: 

In the forest of primeval

A school for Good and Evil

Twin towers like two heads

One for the pure

And one for the wicked

Try to escape you'll always fail,

The only way out is

Through a fairytale. ”

Many in the crowd felt a chill and goosebumps at the eerie message.

The bookseller carried on, “And now begins the story.”

Once upon a time, in a far away land, far beyond the Endless Woods, lived two girls. 

One was as beautiful as a princess. With long hair that shone like spun gold, twinkling emerald eyes, luscious red lips, and creamy peach skin. 

The girl was named Sophie.

The book showed a stunning image of Sophie filled with bright colors, accentuating her lovely features and highlighting her perfect smile. She was holding a basket filled with goodies, and behind her was a meadow full of wildflowers. 

Mr. Deauville then flipped the page, showing a dark frowning picture of Agatha carrying her bald hissing cat Reaper, dead decapitated birds on the ground, and behind her showing a gloomy cemetery resembling Graves Hill.

The other was as ugly as a witch. With greasy ebony hair, bug-like dark eyes, jutting bones, and freakishly pale skin. The girl was named Agatha.

He turned the page once more.

Despite all odds, these two girls were the best of friends.

He intoned, showing everyone a familiar image of the two girls, side-by-side, sitting by the lake. Sophie in a pretty pink dress and Agatha in a shapeless black frock. Some smiled in sentiment.

Everyone in town knew that the girls were the School Master's perfect pair.

Good in pink, Evil in black. 

Princess in pink, witch in black.

But not all was as it seemed. 

Some people in the crowd began to frown. 

Destiny and fate had different plans for the two girls.

What did the book mean? Mutterings began.

The lovely beautiful girl in pink who everyone believed was destined for the School for Good, was in reality, a witch. 

While the miserable hag in black who everyone thought was destined for the School for Evil, was in fact, a princess.

A pause. Then, “WHAT?!?” many in the crowd shouted. Stefan keeled back, not expecting the twist that his daughter was the witch. Callis’ head shot up, shocked. People looked at the two, and each other wide eyed. This was different from what Sophie and Agatha had described their adventure to be. Way different indeed. But the question was, which was true? Were Sophie and Agatha lying? Or was the book instead telling the lie?

“That was why they were out to kill Sophie!” one shouted.

“Yeah, they were here to kill the Witch!” another agreed.

“But if Sophie was a witch, why would she give herself up to them?” reasoned another.

“We should have killed her ourselves!” someone aggressively shouted, fearful and enraged. At this Stefan paled, fearful for his daughter should she really be proven to be a witch.

“She sacrificed herself for us, of course the book is a lie. No witch would do that!” one said vehemently, unconvinced.

“But the other one, Agatha, gave herself up too to be with her friend, so she too couldn’t be the witch as well.” someone else argued.

The townspeople began arguing with each other.

“Silence! SILENCE!” one of the Elders shouted, inwardly wondering if they shouldn’t have lied about the girl’s sacrifice after all.  “Enough! The only way we would know the truth or lie is if we continue with the story. Now, settle down.”

The people, chastised, obeyed and Mr. Deauville continued reading the tale.

One fine night these two girls were whisked together to the legendary School for Good and Evil. Where they began to  question who they really were.

Princess or witch? Good or evil? Friends or enemies?

Let us find out.

The crowd, different from when they first began reading, were now a lot more eager and invested in the tale, because who would've thought? The princess was a witch and the witch was a princess. What an unexpected turn of events!

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Chapter Text

Chapter Two

Mr. Deauville turned to the next page and read,

Through thick forest and the chill of dawn, the two girls emerged, carried by a Stymph. And there for the first time, they laid their eyes to the legendary Schools just as the sun broke free of the horizon, bathing the two soaring castles with its gentle glow.

The crowd at first felt uneasy seeing the odd giant bird made of bone, clutching the two girls by its claws — Stefan most notably, noticing the bird's claws digging a bit too harshly on his daughter's shoulder. 

But this sense of unease was washed away in the face of the next brilliant illustration. 

The crowd gasped in awe as the castles were revealed. Both were stunning in their own ways, and each easily the embodiment of what they stood for. 

“It's so pretty,” a young girl said in wonder, leaning forward as far as she could possibly go without falling off of her seat. Her older brother, who usually has no care nor appreciation for pretty things unconsciously nodded in agreement, equally stunned.

The School for Good glittered in the morning mist. Tall towers of pink and blue made of crystal and frosted glass sparkle beautifully, its flawless visage reflected handsomely over a clear blue lake. Perfect for princes and princesses, future kings and queens, knights and heroes of the land. While, the School for Evil loomed, dark and gloomy, enveloped in thick fog. Sharp jagged towers tearing through dark clouds, a monstrous structure surrounded by a disgusting moat filled with mysterious dark sludge. Perfect for the land’s villains and henchmen, harbingers of evil, mischief, and misery.

For a moment, all was as it was meant to be.

The storyteller read, showing the crowd Sophie and Agatha hundreds of feet off the ground. A beautiful smiling Sophie with her back to the beautiful shining castle, and an ugly glooming Agatha with her back to the dark cheerless fortress.

But then the Stymph didn’t drop the princess in the School for Good. It dropped the witch.

Seeing an illustration of Agatha freefalling attempting to reach up, someone in the back of the crowd let out a slight scream, the two girls were high up in the air after all, a drop from that fall would surely kill or at least majorly injure anyone. But, the majority of the crowd paid no mind to this, it was a magical world after all, surely the girls would be fine, someone or something would catch them. 

And the two girls did manage to make their way back to the village alive and seemingly free of any injuries, surely they would be fine.

“But wait, so who is the real princess and who is the real witch?” someone suddenly asked, confused.

“Agatha’s the princess and Sophie’s the witch stupid, it was already said a few pages back, now hush!” his sister beside him swatted him in annoyance, eager for the next part of the story and unappreciative of her brother’s interruption.

The person behind them, a neighbor of theirs, pitched in, “But the story called Sophie a princess just now, and called Agatha a witch?” she said uncertainty.

“This is so confusing,” a teenager groaned, hand draped on his forehead and dramatically falling onto his back. His friend kicked dirt on his face, then laughed at his sputtering. He yanked said friend’s foot back, tripping him to the ground before tackling him in retaliation. 

“Could the bird have made a mistake?” another asked.

“It’s possible,” an older man shrugged, “It’s a bird after all.”

“But it's a magical bird!”

“A bird is still a bird,”

Before it could turn into an all-out argument, an Elder cleared his throat, “I believe the only way we could answer who was the real witch or the real princess between the two young girls would be to continue with the story,” he said sternly. The two nodded in acquiescence, and Mr Deauville carried on reading.

And instead of the witch, it dropped the princess in the School for Evil.

Things didn’t go smoothly to say the least.

Everyone had a feeling that that was an understatement.

The girl in pink found herself in the middle of a disgusting moat, desperately trying to avoid screaming odd-looking villains raining down from the sky. Standing out like a lone red rose in a field of endless dark thorns.

Many people, especially those who personally knew Sophie and mothers who are used to dealing with their children’s and husbands’ dirty laundry, winced at the sight of her current state. While some meaner ones and some who Sophie used to shy away in disgust whenever spotting them playing around messily covered in mud, found some humor in the situation. 

Hearing the girl who holds looks and being well-groomed as a priority and couldn’t even stand the sight of dirty mud and the smell of farm animals standing waist deep, splashed head-to-toe with mystery black sludge, and standing quite near a floating half-rotten carcass of a goat? She must be incredibly freaked out. And judging from her expression in the story, she looked just as they had imagined her to look like when facing that particular situation. 

Sophie looked as pale as a ghost, eyes wide in horror, mouth shaped into a scream, scrambling away from the new arrivals for the School for Evil. The single splash of color in the gloomy crowd. 

Meanwhile, the girl in black found herself under the shade of huge talking flowers, disparate in a field where beautiful girls donning colorful gowns seemingly sprouted from the ground. Sticking out like a cat in a nightingale’s nest. 

Again, the meaner ones laughed at this. The girl really did stick out like a sore thumb amongst a crowd of gorgeous girls, though looking completely different from each other, looked just as stunning as the next. 

Hairs ranging from light to dark, short and long, curly and straight; all voluminous, visibly shining, and well-cared for. Skin, also a range from dark to light, some with cute freckles and some without, all smooth, clear, and devoid of any imperfection. Some stood tall and others stood short, but all stood straight, poised, and elegant; confident with how they looked and assured of their good-ness. ‘Sophie would’ve easily fit-in in this crowd of girls,’ Stefan thought, incredibly worried at his daughter’s presumed displacement.

Agatha, looking disheveled with her greasy helmet hair and sallow skin looked incredibly out of place and deeply uncomfortable from where she found herself surrounded by. And, where all of Gavaldon could only see Agatha’s frown of distaste in the pages of the book, Calis felt sad and glum, for she saw truth in the painted eyes of her daughter’s illustration what she really felt. 

Pain, and embarrassment directed to herself for what she looked like.

Things only went downhill from there.

The princess tried to ask for help, but found none.

Stefan shot up from his seat in anger and fear, at the sight of his only daughter being threatened by wolf guards wielding whips and uncaring that they may hit her. Forcing Sophie into the gloomy school with the words: “The School for Evil, Edification, and Propagation of Sin” between two black swans looming over her. 

And, goodness, were those crocodiles in the murky water behind her? It was a miracle that no children were torn in half. No. It was a miracle that no one has yet to die at this point.

The next page showed Agatha, a weirdly drenched fairy on hand, at the brilliant school with the words: “The School for Good, Enlightenment, and Enchantment”  between two white swans above her.

The witch accidentally ate a fairy, only to spat him back out.

A pause, then, “WHAT?!?” 

“I knew it, there must be a mistake! What princess would eat a fairy?”

“They said it was an accident, and she didn’t actually eat him!”

“How do you accidentally eat a fairy?”

“I don’t know,”

“What’s going on? How did things come to this?”

“The school definitely made a mistake,”

“Ate a fairy? HOW?”

“Poor fairy,”

“Ewww”

“Gross, I feel bad for the fairy.”

A cacophony of voices said above each other. As the Elders and their assistants once more tried to silence the rowdy crowd, Mr. Deauville decidedly paid more attention to the little fairy, whose face was far too tiny to be clearly seen by the distant audience, but big enough to be seen by him, the one holding the tome. 

Curious, the fairy looked oddly familiar. But where could he have seen him? Maybe the fairy was also present in another fairytale?

Once the villagers settled, Mr. Deauville continued with his reading.

The Nevers-

“Nevers?” A teenager exclaimed, interrupting Mr. Deauville once more, “What the hell are Nevers?” 

“Language!” his mother berated, pinching his ear hard.

Before anyone else could say anything, the bookreader continued on reading the line, knowing the sentence and picture presented were pretty self-explanatory to what Nevers were.

The Nevers loathed the princess on sight and wanted her out of their midst. 

The people stared uneasily at the image Mr. Deauville showed. 

Earlier in the page showing Sophie in the moat, they weren’t able to clearly see what the children from the School for Evil looked like, seeing as they were plumelling from the sky, but now that they were crowded around her…

Stefan felt fearful for his daughter, the future villains all looked different levels of menacing and antagonistic against Sophie. The school better fix this mix-up soon and fast.

The Evers were averse to a witch’s presence and wanted her gone.

Calis felt worried for her daughter. She knew, despite how pretty they looked, how nasty Evergirls could get, having once taught and studied in the schools.

But, alas, the ink was dry, and the Schoolmaster’s decision certain. 

“What?!” Stefan couldn’t stop himself from saying in disbelief. “WHAT? They couldn’t mean leaving Sophie in that place.” he spat out.

The princess was a witch and the witch was a princess. 

Stefan growled, holding Honora’s hand tightly.

It was done.

There was no mistake made.

Many raised their brow at this. To them, it was clear that there definitely was a mistake. But there were some who wondered…maybe, silly as it may seem, there weren’t any errors.

Both shall remain in their predestined schools.

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