Miss Witch Doesn’t Want to Become a Songstress

It was time to head back to Swallow Garden Academy.

How quickly time flies, thought the young girl as she sat inside the aircraft.

Leaning back against the sofa, Hestia gazed out through the nearby round window. The towering cityscape below gradually receded into the distance, eventually vanishing behind the clouds in the sky.

Shifting her gaze, she looked at the table in front of her. On it were freshly cleaned fruits, snacks, and even a newspaper.

In the interstellar age, newspapers had become something of a luxury item, purchased only by a select few. Modern newspapers had evolved into high-quality publications, with specialized editorial teams sifting through millions of online pieces of information to extract valuable and reliable content, which was then formatted and printed according to the client’s preferences.

These newspapers were less like traditional dailies and more akin to custom-made magazines.

The interstellar era was one of overwhelming information. Events large and small occurred across every city, planet, and star region. It was impossible to consume all of it, even with 24 hours a day. This gave rise to specialized editorial services that filtered and curated information for clients. The finely printed materials even had some collectible value, allowing these publishers to survive.

The night sky was dark. After finishing a pale yellow, mildly sweet apple, Hestia leaned back in her seat and dozed off. Her hair curved slightly at the nape of her neck, falling over her snow-white collarbone. Her slightly round, youthful cheeks made her look especially cute and beautiful.

Flying over the warm ocean, the aircraft gradually headed northward. When the girl woke again, 40 minutes had passed.

Feeling more refreshed, Hestia picked up the newspaper in front of her and began flipping through it with interest.

First were the major events within the Federation, most of them concerning economic policy adjustments, though a few items stood out.

“The Envoy Delegation of the Sacred White Melody has arrived, escorted by a patrol fleet. Their ship has reached the Emerald Moon Star Region, where six months of negotiations and discussions are expected. Topics include trade between the Sacred White Melody and our nation, as well as over 20 joint cooperative projects.”

“A new Full-Moon Grade Songstress has emerged! After years of silence, ‘Violet Graceflower’ Ottibriel, a singer from the Vast Wilderness Star Region, has finally ascended to Full Moon-Grade, becoming the Federation’s 11th Full Moon-Grade Songstress. Upon hearing the news, the Vast Wilderness Star Region erupted in celebration. Countless fans took to the streets, wearing violet graceflowers on their chests to express their loyalty to Ms. Ottibriel.”

“Red Titan Heavy Industries and Solitary Ascension Star have jointly announced a century-long collaboration to develop a new hyperspace drive that will allow civilization to extend its reach beyond the galaxy. Following the announcement, both companies’ stock prices rose by 8%.”

“Famed billionaire Maximilian dies. His vast fortune will be inherited by his 42-year-old daughter, Elracarlos. However, given the estrangement between them before his death, some speculate that Elracarlos may have orchestrated her father’s demise.”

“Regarding the Species Discrimination Act, numerous lawmakers in the Federation Central Parliament have proposed amendments to the law, aiming to reduce the rights and social status of certain non-Rose Federation races. This proposal has been met with significant criticism and opposition. The Rose Federation’s Supreme Ethics Committee stated that they would carefully consider the proposal. It is worth noting that among the nine highest-ranking members of the Supreme Ethics Committee, five are Human-Adapters, one is an Ancient Human, two are Human-Beastfolk subspecies, and one is from the Human-Forest Elf branch. All five Human-Adapters have voiced opposition to the proposal.”

After finishing the Federation-wide news, Hestia moved on to recent events in the Four-Leaf Crystal Star Region.

“Hot Lizard Motors saw a surge in popularity on the StarNet after releasing its collision durability video. Recent reports indicate that orders for Hot Lizard Motors have been booked through next April. The company’s spokesperson announced plans to release a new model of hover car by year’s end, focusing on durability, safety, and protecting the driver in any situation.”

“The Twin-Axis Crystal U-3 space station reported an accident that will lead to reduced production of White Crystal Thulium this year. As a result, the resource’s market price has risen by 12%, impacting small and medium-sized enterprises already struggling with slim profit margins. Many workshops are expected to go bankrupt.”

“The Four-Leaf Crystal Star Region’s mid-year economic data showed a growth of only 0.6%, far below the Federation’s 2% average. Industrial adjustments in the star region remain challenging and slow.”

“Beloved local performer Fiery Sugar Princoco will perform at the Winter Festival’s opening ceremony. Tickets for the ceremony sold out within a minute of release.”

As Hestia finished reading the newspaper, the aircraft arrived in the northern zone. Looking out the window, she saw the familiar lights and mountains below. A thought occurred to her, and with a blink, her black hair subtly shifted to an ashen, silvery hue.

This ability to change her hair color at will was nothing new to the two maids accompanying her. They had already prepared her luggage and offered her fresh tea.

Condensation began forming on the window, a clear sign that the northern region’s November was far colder than the southern hemisphere’s. It was late autumn here, and the weather was growing colder.

In the night, orange-red exhaust flames and roars filled the canyon below. Tree branches and grass swayed wildly in the turbulent air currents, illuminated by the fiery glow as if a thousand tiny dancers were performing.

Disembarking from the aircraft, Hestia carried her light suitcase and waved to the two maids behind her before heading toward her dormitory in the distance.

It was 9:40 p.m. now. Once she returned, she planned to take a bath, read a casual book, and then get a good night’s sleep. With no classes tomorrow, a weekend, she could relax a bit.

Pushing open the dormitory door, Hestia turned on the light and felt a soft, furry presence on her head. She didn’t need to guess who it was. Shaking her head slightly, she found she couldn’t shake it off, so she let the large spider stay where it was.

“Well, I’ll be bathing soon anyway. Messy hair won’t matter,” she muttered to herself with a wry smile.

After setting down her luggage, her first act was to check the balcony. There, she found three small ducks sleeping soundly. The trio was now larger than her palm, their yellow fluff beginning to fade as white feathers started growing in.

With the cooler weather, the ducks were huddled together in the embrace of an indigo serpent, basking in the warmth it radiated. When Hestia opened the balcony door, the serpent raised its head and nuzzled her wrist, prompting her to give its head and neck a few affectionate strokes before it coiled back into place.

“The three little ones are being raised well.” The girl gently poked the sleeping ducklings with her fingers, feeling the soft, plump flesh beneath their fluffy feathers. It seemed they had been eating plenty.

After carefully stroking them for a while and glancing at the trio and the indigo serpent, she stood up, preparing to take a bath.

Gathering her bathing essentials and a change of sleepwear, Hestia stopped at the bathroom door, reached up, and grabbed the large spider perched on her head, cradling it in her hands. The spider clearly wasn’t happy about being removed.

“Hmph, struggling won’t help. You’re not sneaking in while I bathe.” She placed the spider firmly on the ground, gave it a practiced tap with her fingers as a warning, and then closed the door behind her.

First, she rinsed off under the shower, washing away the soap suds. Only then did Hestia step into the filled bathtub and slowly recline.

Exhaling softly, she submerged her face and blew a few bubbles under the water before resurfacing. She gently shook her head, and her wet hair released a cascade of water droplets before instantly drying.

Although she could soak in a bath at Edess Academy, sharing living quarters with others there made her self-conscious and less free. It wasn’t like now, where she could stay submerged until the early hours of the morning if she wanted. At the academy, lingering too long might make Annelie or the maids worry, so she always kept her bathing brief.

For now, Hestia played idly with the water before leaning against the tub’s edge, closing her eyes, and reflecting on recent events. As she did, she found herself softly singing the tune Ranbell had played that day.

Ancient stars, eternal and bright,
Turn the wheel of fateful light.
Three sacred keys, their doors unfold,
Where timeless blooms their hues behold.
Within your gaze, they shall arise,
A garden eternal beneath the skies.

O winds that dance through the endless year,
Lift your voice, let all hearts hear.
Sing of the hero with the spear of flame,
Sing of the witch who the ocean claimed.
Sing of the three saints united as one,
Sing of the steel symphony silenced, undone.

Again and again, in the dawn’s warm embrace,
Steps falter forward, seeking their place.
Tears and joy, in harmony cast,
A canvas of life—reborn, steadfast.

She had searched the StarNet for this song but found nothing. When she asked Ranbell about it, she learned it was a melody passed down within her reclusive family. The lyrics seemed to relate to events from the end of the Fifth Epoch. However, much about the Fifth Era had been intentionally obscured in the Federation, reduced to vague overviews with little detailed history.

The hero with the spear of flame was likely a metaphor, though Hestia wasn’t sure for whom. The witch who the ocean claimed seemed to reference the witches who emerged in the Third Epoch but gradually faded into obscurity by the late Fourth Epoch. Many legends suggested they slumbered in the deepest depths of the Aijeka Sea. Over time, these witches had become mythical figures, their existence seeming almost unreal. If there was no historical documentation, some would doubt their existence entirely.

The three saints were known to have ended the Fifth Epoch’s darkness. Their innovation and sacrifice led humanity out of that turbulent time. The modern nation of Sacred White Melody was said to be founded by their descendants. Though smaller in population and star regions than the Rose Federation, it was considered a powerful state within the galaxy, excelling in certain advanced fields.

The steel symphony likely referred to the enigmatic Sigma Assembly. Information about this neighboring entity was tightly controlled, and few details were available on the StarNet. It was rumored to be a civilization of machines, AI, and synthetics. Early AI technologies in the Federation had been derived from Sigma Assembly’s advancements.

Since the Fifth Epoch, human civilization had fragmented, with divisions not only in ideology but even in biology, resulting in significant divergence among various subspecies. It had become increasingly challenging to define “humanity” in a universal sense.

Many nations now declared that only those legally born and educated within their borders could claim human rights. This was a safeguard against certain loopholes, as some “people” were no longer human by traditional definitions, despite possessing intelligence and culture.

Genetic modification and environmental contamination during the chaotic transition to the Sixth Epoch had forced drastic measures, including the controversial cleansing of degraded subspecies. The moral weight of such actions was immense, but they were deemed necessary for establishing stable governance.

After that dark chapter, most nations chose to obscure those grim histories. Only a few dedicated individuals pieced together fragments from ancient records, uncovering glimpses of the relentless and tragic struggles of that era.

Lost in these thoughts about the lyrics and their implications, Hestia eventually noticed the water had turned cold.

“Has it been that long?” she murmured. Rising from the tub, she dried herself, donned her sleepwear, and drained the water. After activating the tub’s automatic cleaning system, she returned to the living room.

The soft glow of the nightlight illuminated the room. Hestia sat at the large table, the occasional breeze rustling the pages of her books. The residual moisture on her skin gradually evaporated, leaving a faint, refreshing chill.

Opening a historical volume on the origins of the Federation, she leaned forward, delicately gripping a pen. She transcribed the lyrics she had heard that day onto her notebook. The black ink reflected faintly under the lamp’s light, drying swiftly yet leaving an impression of elegance.

Hestia relished these quiet moments of writing and recording. It felt as if fleeting thoughts, inspirations, and emotions—things that might otherwise dissolve into oblivion—were being captured and preserved.

Even years later, when memories of her feelings and thoughts faded, the sight of her handwriting on those pages would bring them flooding back.

It was like a small miracle, a magic that froze time in that instant.

Because of her past timidity and fear, Hestia dreaded losing things and forgetting. But by recording them, she gained a faint sense of security.

It was like halting the flow of a vast river of time with her fingers, picking up a stone from its waters, and keeping it safe. On a future day, she could take out that stone and recall the clear, cool sensation of the river from which it came.