Chapter 3: The Wandering Fairy, Aurora

And so, Aurora once again embarked on a journey with no destination.

She wandered the world in search of a new place to belong.

As a fairy, she was different from humans—she didn’t need vegetables or meat to sustain herself.

Just a few leaves picked each day, washed clean and stored in her suitcase, would do.

When she felt hungry, she simply popped one in her mouth.

If she ran out, she could always pick more from the roadside, though unwashed ones felt a bit dirty.

Truthfully, it was less about hygiene and more about Aurora’s mild obsession with cleanliness—she just couldn’t stand the idea of eating something that hadn’t been rinsed.

Now, Aurora carried her leather suitcase in hand, dressed in a simple black dress, a green leaf tucked between her lips, wandering aimlessly through the forest.

After a while, the leaf in her mouth began to yellow, and eventually withered away.

She spat it out and placed a fresh one in her mouth.

“What are you eating?”

Suddenly, a pleasant female voice rang out from above.

Aurora looked up and saw a witch in black robes and a crooked hat sitting atop a broomstick, floating directly overhead.

“You’re not seriously eating leaves, are you?”

Aurora didn’t respond.

She didn’t know how to explain herself—after all, this behavior wasn’t exactly “eating,” and even she wasn’t quite sure why doing it gave her energy.

Seeing no reply, the witch only grew more curious.

She guided her broom lower, then leapt down once she was at eye level, landing gracefully in front of Aurora.

She tugged lightly at Aurora’s sleeve, scanning her from head to toe.

“You don’t seem… entirely human, do you?”

The witch’s golden hair brushed against Aurora’s cheek, and her bright blue eyes studied the woman before her, who looked as beautiful and ethereal as a spirit.

“Um…”

Finally, Aurora opened her mouth, letting the now-withered leaf fall to the ground at her feet.

“Could you tell me where the nearest town is?” she asked calmly.

“Oh, sure.”

The witch didn’t answer her question right away.

Instead, she glanced down at the shriveled remains of the leaf on the ground, then back at Aurora.

“Before that, answer something for me first.”

“What is it?” Aurora tilted her head slightly, her voice gentle.

“I’ve been following you for a while now. Why do you keep a leaf in your mouth, and how does it end up looking like that?”

The witch pointed at the decayed leaf.

“Are you absorbing something from it? Like… I don’t know, magical energy?”

It wasn’t so strange if someone liked to chew on leaves—it could be dismissed as a personal quirk.

But what the witch found curious was that the leaf always withered so quickly.

“I… don’t really know, to be honest.”

Aurora shook her head.

She had been doing it since the moment she became self-aware. In a way, it was simply how she nourished herself.

“I see…”

The witch sounded almost disappointed.

She pointed toward a direction and said, “There’s a town that way—uh, something-something-mi… I forget the name, not important. You can probably find a place to stay there tonight.”

“Understood. Thank you.” Aurora gave a formal maid’s curtsy.

“Ooh! A maid’s curtsy, huh? That’s the first time someone’s done that to me.”

It was a gesture Aurora had repeated countless times over the years. It had become second nature to her—something ingrained and unshakable.

“So that means… you’re a maid, then? Who do you work for?”

The witch blinked her big eyes inquisitively.

“I… currently have no household,” Aurora replied softly.

“No household? You mean you’re a wild maid?!”

Aurora: “……”

The witch suddenly looked worried.

“No no no, that won’t do. You’re way too pretty to be wandering around a forest at night—what if someone with bad intentions spots you?”

Then again, who would be wandering around the forest at night in the first place?

Aurora thought to herself and said, “I can use some defensive magic. There’s no need to worry too much.”

“A maid who can use magic?! That’s super rare!”

The witch looked genuinely impressed.

After all, in this world, magic wasn’t common—it required not only dedication but also innate talent.

“Emmmm…”

The witch rested her chin on one hand, as though contemplating a world-shaking decision.

“Well, I guess I can reluctantly let you sit behind me!” she declared generously, patting the back end of her broom.

“If you’re really offering, then allow me to thank you again, Miss Witch.”

Aurora gave her another polite curtsy.

The witch seemed rather pleased and patted the rear end of the broom again.

“Come on up.”

Riding a broom with a witch—this wasn’t Aurora’s first time.

During her travels with her previous host, a witch as well, she often rode behind her, soaring through the sky together.

That witch used to grumble all the time about Aurora’s chest being too big—it made flying uncomfortable when she pressed up from behind.

All Aurora could do was keep apologizing.

“Ugh, what kind of magic do you need to make those that big…”

Just as Aurora was lost in the memory, the witch piloting the broom up front suddenly blurted out those words, her tone filled with a strange sense of envy.

Time passed.

Maybe it was the long silence that got boring, but Aurora suddenly felt a flicker of curiosity about this witch.

“Miss Witch, are you on a journey?”

Hearing the question, the witch dipped her head slightly, her eyes dimming for a second.

Then she gave a short laugh and replied, “Nah, not really. I’m still an apprentice. I study at the Ophia Academy out east.”

“I see.” Aurora didn’t press further.

She had caught that subtle movement just now—that tiny shift in expression only someone hit right on a sore spot would make.

A little shame, a little resentment.

As someone who had worked as a head maid for many years, Aurora knew well when to ask, and when not to.

“But… traveling has always been my dream. Once I finish my training, I’m definitely going to travel—just like my teacher did.”

Suddenly, the witch up front spoke again.

She didn’t turn around, so Aurora couldn’t see her face, but judging from her voice when she mentioned her dream, she must have been smiling.

“You’ll make it happen, Miss Witch,” Aurora replied gently.

“Hehe, thank you, Miss Maid.”

“Speaking of which, I still don’t know your name, Miss Maid,” the witch added.

After chatting for so long, still calling each other “Miss this” and “Miss that” felt a little awkward.

“I’ll go first, then. I’m Maesta Avila, a second-year student at Ophia Magic Academy.”

“You can just call me Avila.”

She intentionally mentioned her school again, clearly proud of it—after all, getting into Ophia Magic Academy was a badge of honor for many.

The Ophia Magic Academy was the most prestigious school in the Three Great Kingdoms.

It didn’t belong to any one country, but the witches and mages it produced were elite figures across all nations.

The fact that Avila had gotten accepted into the academy was proof enough of her exceptional ability.

“I understand, Miss Avila. My name is Aurora…”

Suddenly, the broomstick they were riding came to a screeching halt in midair.

Avila turned around, her face full of shock.

“Wait—did you say your name is Aurora?!”