Yarin’s POV: 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

Emery smiled in denial of the fairies’ ’kin recognition’, but Thirussis and Rica remained steadfast in their belief.

"An incredibly strong forest essence," Rica said. "Your fairy ancestor must have been a very powerful tree fairy. Even if the bloodline isn’t pure anymore, I can still sense the overwhelming branches, dense leaves, and robust roots."

It spoke with absolute certainty, to the point that even Emery was a bit shaken, "Is that so? Perhaps it’s possible. I’ve never heard anything about this from my family. Even if there was, it would have been many years ago."

Considering the elves’ lifespans, their ’many years ago’ was a very long time ago.

"No, not that long ago," Rica insisted. "Though it’s not pure, your fairy bloodline is still quite strong. I think the one who passed this bloodline to you was probably one of your grandparents or great-grandparents. It wouldn’t be further back than that."

Emery was taken aback. "Really?"

"Yes, the aura is quite clear. It can’t be wrong."

Emery didn’t press further and simply said, "Thank you for visiting me, kids. But I’m fine; a minor injury won’t stop me from using my arm. Go back and play with your friends; I’ll rest for a while and join you later."

During lunchtime, students sat in circles on the grass, sharing their lunches in groups of two or three.

"Will Willy get expelled? He attacked a teacher, which is a serious violation of school rules," Autumn asked.

I shook my head, uncertain. "I don’t know, but I think maybe not. You heard his principal telling him to go home, reflect, and write a statement of repentance. I don’t think they want to expel him."

Autumn sounded a bit disheartened. "True, Willy has good grades. I heard he’s already received offers from prestigious graduate schools. The college wouldn’t want to stir up any scandals at this time."

I understood her perspective. Willy and Kris were similar kinds of people – the typical entitled and arrogant rich kids. Willy easily evaded punishment, relying on his family or his grades, showcasing his privilege.

Rica and Thirussis were happy about finding a new member of their kind and hoped to play with Emery often, but his aloof attitude frustrated them.

In the afternoon, Emery appeared again, wearing a long-sleeved coat to cover the wound on his arm. He looked composed, seemingly unaffected by the morning’s attack targeted at him.

Besides him, elven teaching assistants were present, all part of the exchange students who had stayed until now. They were upset on Emery’s behalf, but he consoled them, striving to prevent the situation from escalating.

"When we were in school, didn’t we also act impulsively when our heads got hot?" he said.

His companions complained, "How can that be the same? Even when we were students, we never hurt a teacher! Besides, if you and I were still among the elves, we’d still be students; there’s no need to indulge him!"

Emery sighed lightly, helplessly smiling. "You said it yourself, ’if’ we were still among the elves. But now we’re guests here, so it’s better to keep a low profile and avoid trouble."

With the victim’s words, the other elves had nothing more to say.

During free time, perhaps due to having eaten too much for lunch, I felt drowsy and lay down under a tree for a nap.

In my dream, I saw the pool filled with black moths again. They weren’t completely dead yet, twitching occasionally with their antennae or wings.

The sour smell of stomach acid and the tightness in my chest made me realize that I was vomiting these moths out myself, which was even more nauseating. So, I lowered my head and vomited a heap of deformed moths again.

I vomited too much; they filled the sink and then overflowed from the edges, cascading down. One fell onto my foot; it was still lively, incessantly fluttering its wings in an attempt to fly but was crushed under my foot.

I despised these disgusting things.

Looking at myself in the mirror, my pale face was sickly flushed with a deep red hue. I blinked, suddenly feeling that something was amiss.

I leaned closer to the mirror, nearly pressing against it, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make out the details in my pupils.

Suddenly, someone pushed me from behind, and I stumbled, falling onto the washbasin, crushing many moths. The viscous juice oozed out from their shattered bodies, staining my clothes and hands.

I turned back to see who had done it, but there was nothing behind me. When I turned back again, the sink and the mirror had vanished.

Only shattered moth bodies covered the ground, motionless, as thick black blood seeped from underneath them.