The Skylark Tower stood tall, its doors perpetually open. Inside, one could gaze directly from the base up to the translucent dome at the top. The interior was vast and silent, so much so that it felt as if the sound of a feather falling could be heard.
Ascending the wide spiral staircase, vibrant stained glass depicting birds adorned the walls, refracting the light from the lamps within and decorating the tower’s interior. Each floor featured open communal spaces where light and wind flowed freely. Hestia could see students chatting and reading at tables or gathering for simple lunches.
The tower was divided into six equally sized sections per floor, each approximately 120 square meters. Four sections were dedicated to student dormitories, while the other two were communal areas. One housed a kitchen with scattered tables, chairs, and a fireplace, alongside personal items placed by students. The other varied—quiet reading rooms, bird sanctuaries, indoor battle and skill practice arenas, rooms for potted plants and herbs regularly maintained, or even stages for performances.
Though it was daytime, few students were present in these spaces. However, the signs of use suggested they would become lively at certain times.
As Hestia and Vetrina climbed the staircase, the large boar followed curiously, sniffing around as if it were its first visit. Eventually, they stopped at the twelfth floor.
“This is the room assigned to you, Hestia,” Vetrina said, shaking the key in her hand before inserting it into the lock. After authentication, the door opened.
“Once you register your information, you won’t need the key anymore. But for times when it’s not you opening the door, the key will still be necessary,” Vetrina explained.
Inside, the room featured plain wooden floors with deep red grain patterns, and walls resembling stone gave off the vibe of an ancient castle. The living room was furnished with scattered wooden chairs and a large table.
The table was spacious enough to hold many items, and a nearby bookshelf was already stocked with hundreds of books, some provided by the school and others left behind by previous students. On one side of the living room was a kitchen; on the other, a bathroom. Deeper inside were a bedroom and a storage room. The entire dormitory spanned about 160 square meters and was for a single occupant.
“If you decide to keep animals in the future, the two empty rooms can serve as their nests. Each dormitory is equipped with two autonomous units: one for cleaning and the other for cooking and preparing simple drinks.”
“It’s so big,” Hestia murmured after exploring all the rooms.
“It’s reasonable,” Vetrina replied casually. “The academy has plenty of space, so we prioritize comfort. Materials aren’t something we skimp on.”
The Swallow Garden Academy accommodated between 1,200 and 1,500 students, divided into several dormitory zones. The Skylark Tower could house up to 300 students, with each tower hosting about 100 students. Each floor housed only four students, ensuring ample space.
“Let’s unload your things,” Vetrina suggested as they returned to the spacious hallway outside. They unloaded the luggage from the boar and placed it inside the dormitory. Fortunately, the room was well-furnished, leaving little need for extra purchases.
“The bed is newly made, and so are the linens and other bedding. The table and bookshelf in the living room, however, are passed down. After you graduate, you can leave books or notes for the next students if you’d like.”
“I understand,” Hestia replied, intrigued.
“Do all students leave something behind as a tradition?”
“More or less,” Vetrina said with a smile. “It’s interesting, isn’t it? When I enrolled, I found notes left by previous students on the bookshelf—complaints about school events, stories of their experiences, the mistakes they made, and their favorite activities.
“Reading their notes helped me quickly familiarize myself with the school, and I grew fond of this tradition,” Vetrina added.
So this was the confidence of a school with a long history, Hestia thought. They weren’t afraid of students recording criticisms in their notes. She found herself growing curious about these records.
“Alright, let’s head to the restaurant by Leaf Fragrance Lake. I imagine Teacher Schneil is already waiting for us there—it’s closer to the Forest Treehouses,” Vetrina said.
“This time, the boar doesn’t have to carry luggage. We can ride on its back. It’ll get some tasty treats when we arrive,” she added, patting the boar’s head. The boar grunted happily and crouched to let the two girls climb on.
They grabbed onto the makeshift handles and settled in. The boar started down the stairs, navigating the tower’s gentle slopes with ease.
Once outside, the ride became more comfortable. As they traveled, Vetrina continued discussing the school.
“Since it’s late August, the school’s Autumn Wind Festival will begin in October. It’s the liveliest time of the year, unlike most schools’ winter festivals.”
“In addition to the usual combat competitions, there are lighthearted performances, bonfire camping, and more. At Swallow Garden Academy, combat isn’t the main focus. Most students here are trained in lifestyle-oriented professions.”
The conversation flowed as they made their way to the lake. The crystal-clear water reflected the fiery red leaves of the surrounding forest, and some leaves drifted gently on the surface.
The crescent-shaped lake, roughly the size of six football fields, had a unique ship-like building on one side. It rose five stories above the water and extended five stories below, forming a symmetrical reflection on the lake’s surface.
Reaching the lakeside, Vetrina and Hestia dismounted and approached the ship-like structure, scanning their student chips.
“Let’s get the boar a grilled fish. There’s an automatic cooking machine here, and it’s cheap,” Vetrina said, selecting the option. Soon, a steaming grilled fish emerged from a chute and landed in a food bowl before the boar.
About 20 Federation Credits—a bargain compared to the 40 it would cost elsewhere, Hestia thought.
“Alright, let’s head in. You can return to your dorm later when you’re tired,” Vetrina said, patting the boar before she and Hestia entered the ship-like building.
“The above-water levels are student dormitories, while the underwater levels house public spaces. For example, there’s an underwater restaurant with great views. They serve a variety of fish and shrimp dishes at low prices.”
Inside, the building was bustling. Students in different uniforms and from various grades laughed and chatted as they passed, many heading to the restaurant.
Descending the stairs, they reached the large underwater restaurant. Light filtered through the water, casting shimmering reflections. Fish swam by, and green water plants swayed gently, illuminated by the interior lights. The space was vast, capable of seating 500 people at once.
As they entered, they saw Schneil waving from a distance, a drink in hand, with Orcas beside him.
“Over here! I’ve ordered you some delicious T4-grade red bass risotto!” Schneil’s cheerful voice carried across the room.
In this way, Hestia’s life at Swallow Garden Academy began.