NOVEL NEXT Chapter 50: Sprites (2)
The group of thirty students followed the violet sprite down the wide second-floor hallway, their gazes darting to every detail of the castle's décor. The moving paintings were enough to catch anyone's eye, but even the seemingly mundane—candles in ornate sconces, statues resting in alcoves—radiated an air of enchantment.
It felt as though they'd stepped into an entirely different world the moment they crossed the castle's threshold.
"Meow."
A sleek black cat landed gracefully on a nearby table, its amber eyes glowing faintly as it studied the students with a slow, deliberate sweep of its gaze.
"Oh my goodness, a kitty!" one of the girls squealed, unable to resist stepping forward.
Michael flinched.
He didn't like cats—or perhaps it was more accurate to say cats didn't like him. Every one he'd encountered in his life had treated him like a walking scratching post.
The red-haired girl, however, had no such trouble. She scooped the feline into her arms, pressing it to her chest and stroking its fur as though she'd just found a long-lost friend.
The cat purred loudly, eyes half-lidded in bliss.
"Damn it, Felix, you pervy bastard!" the violet sprite suddenly shouted, her tone more furious than Michael had yet heard. "Stop fraternizing with the children!"
Huh?
At her outburst, the cat sprang from the girl's arms with flawless feline grace, landing lightly on the stone floor before darting away.
Confusion rippled through the group—until the sprite raised her hand. A burst of violet light shot forward, striking the cat squarely.
It let out a pitiful, drawn-out wail.
Before their eyes, the sleek black fur receded, replaced by pale, bare skin—far too much of it. Limbs elongated, bones pushing sharply against the surface as the creature twisted into a disturbingly thin, naked man. His long black hair spilled over his shoulders like ink, framing a face far too gaunt to be healthy.
The red-haired girl shrieked and stumbled backward.
"Hehe… sorry…" the man—Felix—muttered, scratching his head in an oddly feline gesture.
The group stood frozen, caught between horror and disbelief, as Felix abruptly dropped to all fours and bolted down the hall, vanishing around a corner. The sight was both grotesque and baffling.
The red-haired girl—Rose—wasn't so quick to recover. Her breathing quickened into shallow gasps.
"W-What the fu—"
She didn't finish. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed—only for the blue sprite to dart forward, catching her with one small but surprisingly steady arm.
"Those of you with blue emblems, follow me," he ordered crisply. He muttered a short incantation, and Rose's limp form lifted from his grasp, floating gently in the air beside him.
About a dozen students broke from the group to follow, disappearing down the first left turn in the corridor. The hallway fell noticeably quieter with their absence.
The violet sprite scratched the back of her head, looking genuinely sheepish. "Er… sorry you had to see that. Felix is… usually better behaved."
"Who was that?" Randolph, the curly-haired student, asked, his voice tight with unease.
"That was Felix… he's a bit of an odd fellow," the green sprite said at last, shifting uncomfortably. "He's actually a graduate of the academy—one of the first mages to develop a revolutionary transfiguration spell, allowing humans to reshape their bodies at will."
He hesitated, then added, "The problem is… it turns out transfiguring oneself can have a lasting effect on the mind. Something about the brain shrinking during the process, I think…"
A chill settled over the group, the explanation hanging in the air like a cold mist.
How tragic… and terrifying, Michael thought, pity and unease knotting together in his chest.
To think such a talented mage had been reduced to wandering the academy grounds as a cat—it was nothing short of a tragedy.
It only reinforced for Michael what he already knew: magic was dangerous. He'd faced more than one brush with death because of it.
There was the time he'd tried absorbing chaotic mana. Then the invasive mana from the dead violet mage in the mana-scarred lands. But perhaps the most unsettling was the entity he'd encountered in Velmara City—at the site of the dried-up mana spring.
The one that had likely claimed every life in the city.
Even after combing through the Winterborne estate's library, Michael still hadn't found so much as a lead on what it had been.
"We should get moving," the violet sprite broke in, pulling them from the heavy silence. "The headmaster won't be pleased if you arrive late to the welcome feast because of us."
With that, the sprites guided the eighteen or so remaining students deeper into the seemingly endless hallway. Eventually, the green sprite split off down another corridor, taking with him all but three of the students.
Now only Melody, Michael, and one other boy remained.
Michael finally had the chance to study the commoner who had caught his attention outside the academy gates earlier.
The boy had olive-toned skin and unruly brown hair, freckles scattered haphazardly across his nose and under his hazel eyes. Though not conventionally handsome, he had a distinctive, almost exotic look—one that was accentuated by his strikingly white smile.
Catching Michael's scrutiny, the boy grinned and extended a hand. "Name's Rudy Graves," he said.
Michael noticed the dirt and calluses without needing a second glance, but it didn't deter him. He clasped the hand firmly. "Michael Ellis. And this is Melody Winterborne—my fiancée," he added almost as an afterthought.
Rudy's eyes widened with approval. He leaned in and whispered, "Damn, bro, how'd you land such a hottie? She got any friends?"
No… she has no friends, Michael replied silently, his expression stone-like.
Then he couldn't help but let out a pained chuckle, feeling the sharp burn of Melody's glare drilling into the side of his face.
"You'll have plenty of time to get to know each other," the violet sprite called over her shoulder. "After all, you'll be sharing a room."
"HUH!?" Melody's voice shot up several octaves, her horror ringing through the hall.