Chapter 57: The History I Didn't Follow.

— Then for what? — asked Agatha.

This time it was the brothers who exchanged glances.

— As I said before, it's our job to protect and supervise the storyteller—Rafal began to explain—because he is the one who gives life to the forest and our world through his stories.

— It is also our duty to train heroes and villains so that there are stories to tell because the storyteller does not invent the stories, he only transcribes them—added Rhian.

— If it's so important because we were brought here? — I ask, more and more surprised, Agatha.

I didn't understand what a couple of freshmen were doing in the most fundamental place in the forest.

— We have a small anomaly—replied the director of good—and we believe that your help would be useful to us.

The girls looked at him strangely.

— It's quite peculiar—Principal Rhian began to explain—our students strive for four years to graduate from their respective schools in order to convince the storyteller to write their stories.

He and Rafal positioned themselves before the podium on which the new story rested while the pen wrote.

Sophie walked over, trying to hide her nervousness.

Agatha, on the other hand, did not succeed, she did not know what was happening, but she had a bad feeling.

— But it seems that you don't need any training—Rafal commented with a bit of irony—since the storyteller decided to start his story even before you started the first year correctly.

Sophie shuddered to receive confirmation of her worst fears.

He didn't care if the storyteller wrote his story.

What worried him was that the pen would decide to open and close the book as it pleased, as it did in the original novel.

Sophie had a theory that it wasn't because the storyteller was writing too long a story, but because of the imbalance between good and evil that things had gone to hell.

But it was just a theory.

No one was saying that the Rafal of the first book was not right, and the reason El Mundo was, literally, melting in the original novel was not for the simple fact that the storyteller had extended the story too much.

A whole world was going to break up because the pen didn't know what a trilogy was.

— It's happened before—Sophie heard Rhian say and came back to reality—that someone from outside the school stars in their own story, it's just that it had never been written about first-year students.

— Maybe he just wants to be original—Sophie shrugged, trying to take the iron out of it.

She tried to reassure herself more than the others.

— I thought the same—agreed Rafal—but the funny thing is that although he is writing his story—he made a gesture to point out both—at the same time he is not doing it.

Agatha and Sophie blinked in confusion.

— He's doing a draft—Agatha asked, reflecting on how she did rehearsals for school.

First I wrote on a sheet or so what I wanted to write and when things were right I transferred them to clean.

Rhian looked at her with a little reproach, and Rafal held back a slight laugh.

— No, he's not making a draft—Rhian said scolding.

He beckoned them to come closer and read what the storyteller wrote.

Sophie noticed what looked like a second pen under the dais, copying the storyteller's writings in real time, on loose sheets.

— It does not allow me to go back to the previous page once it has been written, so it is the only way we have to follow the thread of the story without missing anything—Rafal explained.

He took the sheets that had already been written and showed them to the girls.

Both began to read.

Sophie saw the book "the school of good and evil" as she knew it, she didn't understand what the problem was until she realized it was, exactly! The school book of good and evil.

That should be impossible because she and Chaos threw the whole story out the window.

Nothing written on those pages ever happened.

Everything was written according to the original book.

As Agatha, she had arrived at school and fallen into the flower field alone.

As the fairies had attacked her and then dragged her.

As Sophie had fallen into the mud pool of the school of evil.

As she had run desperately, alone, without Aric or Japeth.

As Hort had tried to touch her hair and she had had to flee, as there was no little brother to intimidate the boy.

As Sophie had been scared for the first day and had quarreled with the dwarf to prevent her painting from being put in the hall of the new villains.

As Agatha, she had set fire to the tower on the first day of school after freeing the fish from desires.

As Tedros had killed the poor gargoyle.

As Tedros, without any regrets, skewered the shooting dummy in the guise of Agatha.

As Sophie pushed Agatha aside, again and again, going out of her way to get Tedros' attention.

When Sophie read these parts she saw that she had Rafal on her shoulder reading with her and the boy was frowning with annoyance, clearly jealous.

Agatha saw that Rhian was on Sophie's other shoulder following the reading, with the face of having eaten a lemon.

At least Rafal tried to hide his jealousy, the twin of good was read all over his face as if he had it printed on his forehead.

— What does that part of the story say? — I ask curious Agatha.

— That I have been madly in love with Tedros since the first day I saw him.

Sophie dramatically fanned herself with one hand as she fluttered her eyelashes and pretended to be about to faint with love.

— I had almost forgotten that you preferred blond them—Agatha commented casually.

Trying to insinuate to the two guys present that this was not entirely impossible, but he could barely hold the laughter.

None of the twins noticed it, and they were immediately tense and alert.

Seeing their reactions, the girls couldn't stand it and burst into laughter.