We arrived in the capital, Crystaline—more precisely, at the headquarters of the so-called Skydivers Knights.
In Bjorn the Wounded Bear's book, there had been many mentions of the Skydivers. He wrote that they were founded by something called the Council of Seven.
I always wondered what that meant.
So I asked Sister Sally.
She told me that there were seven small duchies—tiny, vulnerable lands that were constantly harassed by stronger kingdoms and empires.
Eventually, those duchies formed an alliance under a single banner and named their unified realm Era.
That alliance allowed them to stand together and protect one another.
The Skydivers were created soon after—elite units for investigation, reconnaissance, and battlefield support. They were famous for their flying ships: simple wooden vessels lifted by a massive balloon, powered by magical stones known as Ion Jewels.
Even now, I don't understand how those stones actually work, but rumors say they originate from the Holy Land itself.
In Bjorn's book, he always described them as sky pirates—mercenaries obeying no one but the Council of Seven.
But based on what I experienced, they were the ones who saved me.
While I was lost in my thoughts, I heard Captain Serin of the Swallow calling my name.
She told me I had to accompany her to give my testimony about the disappearance of my village.
The headquarters of the Skydivers Knights was nothing like the image I had in my mind.
It wasn't just an administrative building… it was an entire fortress, large enough to be its own small town.
Its towering walls were built from smooth, gray stone, each block engraved with faintly glowing magical symbols that seemed to breathe with life. Along the ramparts, wide wooden walkways stretched from one tower to another, and soldiers in deep blue Skydiver coats patrolled them with practiced discipline. Beside each group stood one of their airships, anchored with thick chains to prevent the winds from pulling them away.
A broad garden surrounded the main entrance, filled with tall trees that swayed even though there was no wind—almost as if something unseen moved between them. Above us, the balloons of the airships emitted a soft blue glow from the Ion Jewels embedded beneath them… a sight I had never witnessed before.
I stood in the center of the courtyard, my eyes wide as I took everything in.
I couldn't hide my amazement.
Never had I imagined that the place Bjorn described as a den of sky pirates could be this grand… or this organized.
Serin walked ahead of me with steady steps. When she noticed my long silence, she gave a faint smile.
"First time seeing our headquarters, right?" she asked, sounding unmistakably proud.
I simply nodded—because I couldn't find the right words.
Serin and I reached a large auxiliary building within the fortress—quieter than the rest, yet far more heavily guarded.
She walked ahead with confident steps through a narrow stone corridor, while I followed behind her, tense, my eyes tracing every detail: the deep-blue banners hanging on the walls, the polished armor sets displayed like silent sentinels, and the faint smell of old paper and ink drifting through the air.
Serin finally stopped before a massive door made of dark, varnished wood, its edges reinforced with polished brass.
A small metal plate was fixed at its center, engraved in sharp, authoritative lettering:
"High Commander"
Serin took a breath, as if preparing herself before knocking…
But before her hand reached the door, voices erupted from inside.
Men's voices—angry, sharp, cutting through the silence.
"Dijkstra's plan is absurd! Does he realize the duchy has already lost three battalions this month alone?!"
"We warned him! Pressing the northern border now is suicide!"
"And yet he insists on pushing forward as if our army is immortal!"
Serin and I exchanged glances.
Even she hadn't expected this level of chaos behind the High Commander's door.
A shiver crawled down my spine.
I had come here only to give testimony about my village's disappearance…
But it seemed I was about to walk into something far more complicated.
As Serin and I stood before a wide door engraved with bold letters reading:
"High Commander,"
the door suddenly swung open from the inside.
A man stormed out, eyes blazing with fury, as if smoke itself was about to burst from his ears. He walked past us without a glance, muttering angrily about "Dijkstra's ridiculous plan" and "the heavy losses the duchy is paying for it."
He slammed the door behind him so hard the wall trembled.
A deep, commanding voice called from inside:
"Enter."
We stepped in.
Serin immediately snapped into a rigid military salute—far stricter than anything I had ever seen from her. Only then did I understand the degree of respect… or fear… she held for this man.
The High Commander looked like an ancient war statue brought to life—broad shoulders, a towering frame, and a long scar cutting across his face from his brow to his cheek, giving him a fearsome, unforgettable presence.
He looked to Serin first.
"Commander Serin… your report."
She swallowed and said,
"Sir, unfortunately, we couldn't find much evidence. The village was—"
His fist struck the desk with such force that the papers trembled.
"Little? You return empty-handed again? Do you remember the budget for the Swallow? Do you expect me to justify another operation to the Council with nothing to show for it?"
Serin lowered her head slightly, then quickly added:
"Sir… I did not return empty-handed. I found this girl."
His eyes turned to me—heavy, sharp.
"Speak. What did you witness?"
I answered, hesitant:
"I smelled something strange coming from underground… a scent like burning rot."
He raised an eyebrow.
"And? Why didn't you disappear along with the rest of the villagers?"
Serin answered before I could:
"Because she's Awakened, sir."
The Commander's gaze snapped to me.
"Awakened? A peasant chosen by a spirit?"
Serin shook her head.
"She is not an ordinary villager."
She gestured for me to lift my hair.
I did… revealing my long elven ears.
The Commander's eyes widened in shock.
"An elf? Here? In Tiranova? Impossible."
He rose from his desk in an instant.
"No one can cross the Jormungand Fog. It separates the continents. Even slavers can't get through."
He took a step closer.
"Tell me… which spirit chose you?"
I answered quietly:
"Her name is… Lilith."
A visible jolt crossed his expression.
"Lilith?"
Serin quickly added:
"Yes, sir. A demonic-class spirit. Specializing in healing and curse-lifting. You know exactly what that means, Commander."
A troubled shadow fell over his face.
Finally he said:
"Step outside. I need to speak with Commander Serin alone."
I obeyed immediately and waited in the hallway.
While I stood there, the angry man from before returned.
Without knocking, he pushed the door open and entered again, and another heated argument erupted inside.
And I remained there… waiting for my fate.
Almost an hour had passed while I stood there waiting.
I stopped in front of a window, watching the city streets below—alive with movement, with the shouts of merchants and the laughter of children.
The city I had always dreamed of visiting… and here I was at last.
But I felt no excitement.
I had wanted to come here with Frederica.
Now they were all gone.
If only I knew what had happened to them… where they were.
My eyes filled with tears as the thought hit me:
Perhaps they were scared now… hungry… suffering.
They didn't deserve any of this.
They were good people.
My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by shouting from inside the Commander's office.
The door swung open violently, and the same man from before stepped out—this time, I noticed the words written on his robes:
Council Advisor.
I realized instantly how high his status was.
He approached me, looking me up and down as though inspecting a strange object.
"An elf," he muttered. "Just what we needed… as if things weren't bad enough already."
He sniffed disdainfully. "You should bathe later. You reek of cow dung, peasant."
I bowed my head slightly.
"I'm sorry, Councilor. I'll make sure to clean myself properly."
He narrowed his eyes.
"You read my title? So you can read? That's rare. Peasants usually can't even write a single letter correctly—or count to five."
I answered, "I've read some books… like the travel journals of Bjorn the Wanderer."
He burst into laughter.
"Bjorn? You read that liar's nonsense? Hah! How amusing."
Then he waved his hand dismissively.
"Well, good luck, non-human."
He left.
A moment later, I heard the Commander's voice rumbling from inside:
"Girl. Enter."
I stepped in.
Serin stood beside his desk, and the Commander was staring at her with a hard expression.
"Give me one last reason, Serin," he said coldly. "One. The elders in the Council won't accept anything but concrete results. This is your final chance."
Serin straightened.
"Sir… I know this girl will be the key. Please allow me one last opportunity."
Then she turned to me.
"Aurora," she said gently. "You want to discover what happened to your village… to find them… to save them, don't you?"
I nodded immediately.
Serin continued, her voice firm:
"Then listen. I am Serin Van Helsing, captain of the Swallow and leader of the Scrabs Unit. And I hereby invite you, Aurora, to join my squad… as our new medic."
The Commander added gruffly:
"It would be wise to accept, girl. For many reasons. The simplest one being: you're an elf. The moment you leave this fortress, you'll be kidnapped within five minutes."
I looked into Serin's eyes.
Then I thought about the Commander's words.
He was right.
Sister Sally had hidden me from the world because she knew how cruel it truly was.
I couldn't survive alone out there.
Without thinking any further, I accepted Serin's offer—to become the new medic of the Scrabs.
The Commander sighed.
"This is your last chance, Serin. Don't waste it.
As for you, Aurora—come back later to sign your contract. Then you'll officially become a Skydiver Knight."
Serin and I left the office together.
She turned to me with a small smile.
"Welcome to the team, Aurora."
I don't know if it was just a feeling…
But something inside me whispered that my life truly began at that exact moment