The School for Royals and Plebeians

Méchant

Being born a Méchant has, definitely, it's perks. It's almost like being born with Royal blood, just ten times better. For example, being brain powered in magic - which by the way is awesome, because - it makes you better at spellcasting, and you also get multi-spell casting skills. And the fame... the fame of the name that pursues my shadow, I LOVE IT. It gives you free will to do whatever you want without all of the lameness and... courtesy of being Royalty. Plus, it means you're the proud only child of the most malevolent Villain of them all, Maleficent.

Life is good!

"So, have you decided yet?" The petite boy asked standing aside the counter, he was tip toeing.

"No, not much interested into a Hunting Course in this days. It doesn't suits' me." I said in a whisper leaning towards him. "I will have a look around."

It's a fresh day, perfect for the last day of weekend. There is a Course Convention on the square-like garden of the school. There is a counter for everything in here; Handicraft, Bakery, Villainy, Heroism, Royal Education, Magic in Expansion, Contemporaries, so on and so forth. But after all, why am I here? you ask. There is the following, for the past two years I've been in a Private College for Villains, however didn't learn much while I was there, so with the union the schools I dropped almost all of my classes.

You need to change course and start over otherwise you won't graduate, my last conversation with Dean Edgar came out to me.

As I said before, being born a Méchant it's one of the best things ever after, unfortunately, it doesn't tell you what is the right path to take down your life. Oh mother, what would you say? What would you do? Probably give me some advises, telling me to do whatever it is that makes me feel stronger than those around me.

"Would you care to sign up for the Author's Course?" A clean, motherly-like voice asked from behind. I turned around seeing a woman with orange ablazing hair that brushed her shoulders.

"What is that?"

"In the Author's Course you are no longer a character breathing among the pages of a storybook, you become the Author himself... or herself, in this case."

"Keep going!"

"You will hold the power to control everything and everyone in the stories you will create, or even tell one's story in a different way."

Such words made me hold my breath for seconds, my jade eyes might have even glowed for a split second. "Can I bring back the Happily Never After's?"

"Well if you can command Gods to your will, I see no reason to doom such a thing!" The woman opened her smile to me.

"Where do I sign?" My teeth smiled with joy.

The woman had me sign up a bunch of paperwork and in the next morning I found a dark scroll on my bedside table. I scratched my eyes before unwrapping it. It was blank. It took me a while to realize it. I put it down and closed my eyes again for half-a-second.

Last night a casted a spell to make my bed cooler one hour and a half before first class to help me waking up without the need of a sudden shock of a Flatpad. I reached out to the black scroll again. I blew on it making golden, tick, strokes shape into letters. In less than noting it turned out to be my new schedule. There's Intensive Writing at ten to ten and Abstractive Thought at midday, which translates into taking easy on this morning. I had a long bath in olive oils. Then I followed to the closet. My clothes are gone. All of my clothes and uniforms. All that is left is a black silk robe hanging on a wood hanger. I land my eyes on it for a second. On a note was written: Wear me. I drove my fingers across the fabric: It's soft and very light, it won't graze my skin. I pulled the note out of the hanger and burned it into the air. I wore a bra and undies underneath and went to the cafeteria.