Chapter Text
Age 8
"Are you alright?"
Himmel looked up from the dirt. The petite girl standing before him looked to be a few years his senior, and for a moment he thought to say that calling him a child was rich coming from her, before he noticed her pointy ears.
"Well?" She prompted as she shifted a basket under her arm. "Daylight's fading. Soon it'll be dusk and it's a new moon."
"I know that."
"In that case, are you able to return home?" The girl asked.
Himmel glared at her and then studied his worn shoes. "No," he admitted. "Can you help me?"
"Indeed." The girl looked around. "Am I correct in saying that you live in a village?" She asked, and when Himmel nodded she pointed in a particular direction. "If you walk that way you'll come upon a stream,” she said. “Follow it upriver and there'll be a settlement. It's the closest one I can remember being around these parts."
"Thank you," Himmel stammered.
"You're welcome." The girl turned away from him and Himmel watched her nervously, thinking she'd offer to walk him the way back. If the stories were true, it seemed inappropriate to call her miss as she'd be far older than even the village elder.
Then he remembered a lecture he received once where it was explained to him that most girls wore coifs or hoods but if one wore her hair loose or had it done up elaborately, she was a noble or someone powerful, and this elf kept hers in sleek twin braids that fell all the way past her shoulders. "Milady?" He asked.
The girl looked back at him. "Yes?"
"Are you an elf?"
"That's correct."
"Is it true that your kind know magic?"
She stared at Himmel until he flushed and broke eye contact first. "Would you like to see?" The elf asked.
"Yes, please."
The elf set her basket down and swept her cloak back. She reached out into the air with one open hand. There was a shimmering of radiant light and Himmel shaded his eyes as the wisps coalesced into the shape and length of a staff over her palm. As the brightness dimmed and Himmel's sight recovered, he saw that she was wielding a long rod made of red wood that was capped on the end with a crescent made of beaten gold and bearing a red jewel in the centre and red ribbon wrappings around its arc.
If that was not impressive enough on its own, what happened next was something Himmel would go on to remember for the rest of his life.
The patch of dirt he'd been previously staring at sprouted roots and blades of grass. As the greenery swelled, tendrils rose above them, unfurling leaves while the tops took the shape of buds. As the first one rose to about the height of Himmel's knee, the bud opened and before him spread the petals of a yellow dandelion. He looked over it and saw, as the elf waved her staff, more and more buds sprouted up ahead to unveil flowers in a similar fashion, the work of days and weeks manifesting within moments before his very eyes.
Soon, he was staring at an entire flowerbed of dandelions, lilies, orchids, roses, carnation, tulips and more numbering in the dozens where there'd been nothing but hard earth, brown mud and dead soil.
In his amazement, he didn't realize that the elf had departed.
He wished he'd asked her for a name.
Age 16
She was just as he remembered her. Now that he'd grown taller and broader in the shoulders, it stuck out in his mind how dainty and little she appeared as she knelt in the dirt.
"Let me handle this," Himmel told Eisen and Heiter before he stepped over to the elf.
"Well met," she said as Himmel approached her.
For a moment, Himmel wondered if she remembered the little boy she helped find his way back home. "I heard there was a mage who lived in this forest for a long time," he remarked. "Would that happen to be you?"
The elf shrugged and reached into a bush, pulling out a handful of herbs. "I cannot say if it's a long time but I am staying in these parts at the moment," she answered. "It's not my woods though if that's what you're worried about. You don't need my permission to travel through here."
"Thank you, but that's not why we wanted to see you." The elf didn't say anything so Himmel pushed on. "We wanted to ask if you'd join our party."
Himmel heard Heiter trudge up behind him. The priest looked down the elf with his spectacles and his answer surprised Himmel. "She seems to have about a fifth of my mana," Heiter said eventually. "So about average for a mage."
Himmel noticed the slightest furrowing of the elf's brow. "Well then," she said. "You heard the priest's uncouth assessment. I'm an average mage indeed." Without looking at Himmel or Heiter, she raised a hand and fluttered it in their general direction. "Guess you must look elsewhere if you're searching for a great sorcerer, so shoo."
"I know that's not true," Himmel remarked.
"Oh, are you a mage also?"
"No, but I believe you're far more powerful than you're leading us to believe."
The elf looked his way curiously. "What gave you that idea?"
"Just a hunch."
The elf sniffed. "Even if you're right, you're very presumptuous and your friend is very offensive. I daresay we would not make good travelling companions."
"Do you not like to travel?"
"I'm more of a solitary wanderer."
"We were hoping to travel somewhere more specific," Heiter murmured.
"Where might that be exactly?"
"The Northern Lands," Eisen piped in as he came closer. "We're going to kill the Demon King."
Everyone fell into a hush as birds tweeted, the undergrowth rustled and the wind whispered.
"Then you go to your deaths," the elf concluded. "No one can kill the Demon King."
Himmel smiled. As the elf made to stand up, a sense of gallantry made him extend his hand out to her. A knot of joy caused him to hold onto her fingers for a few moments longer than necessary when she accepted his gesture and rose to her full height which barely reached his shoulders. "No one but us," he retorted.
Age 17
"We've met before," Himmel said one night by the campfire. He'd since learnt the elf's name was Frieren, that his hunch was correct and most importantly, that her flowerbed magic was still as breathtaking as it'd been since he'd first seen it.
"Really?" Frieren asked as she sat down beside him and by the river. "I don't recollect."
Himmel chuckled. "I was a child then. I was lost in the woods, and you'd found me and gave me directions."
"Sounds like something I might have done," Frieren noted. "But that could have been another elf."
Himmel knew she was being polite. She'd already let it slip a few times since their journey that there weren't all that many elves out there. They'd visited many towns and cities and more often than not, many people would remark how it's been years and even decades since they'd seen one of her pointy-eared kin. "Well if it was," he said. "This particular elf was also just as good as creating flowerbeds with her magic as you are."
"I suppose that does narrow it down," Frieren admitted.
"Before that happened, I've heard the stories about mages. How they'd turn princes into frogs, and do wicked things to children out on their own, and of course there's the usual tales of demons who leave nothing but ruin in their wake, but when I saw those flowers sprouting in their dozens, I have to say this: for the first time in my life, I realized magic was beautiful and that was the reason when we needed a mage that I immediately thought of you."
"That's quite an endorsement."
"Not really since that first time, I've always been thinking of you."
He shouldn't have said that. He should not have said that. Himmel turned and looked at Frieren looking back at him.
"Flatterer," she accused, the light of the campfire the only reason that Himmel was able to see the slightest bit of flush in her cheeks. "I'm already here, aren't I?"
She was embarrassed.
The wise and mystical mage was embarrassed.
Himmel puffed his cheeks out but it was futile. The laughter burst out of him like water from a broken bottle. He clutched at his sides and covered his face in his arm. When he felt Frieren's hand lightly swat him on the shoulder, he choked and broke down into a bout of mirth.
Age 26
"We did it," Himmel breathed as he heard Frieren walk over and join him next to the sit down next to the stairs so they could look out at the Capital and the rest of the land in the horizon. "We succeeded."
"We did," Frieren admitted.
"And you said it couldn't be done."
"That I did, and I was wrong."
"Guess the great elven mage can make mistakes."
"Don't get used to it."
Himmel picked his next words carefully. "What will you do now?"
Frieren mulled it over. "I will resume my travels," she answered eventually. "See what else is out there. Collect more spells and find more grimoires."
"Any room in those travels for a partner?"
Frieren shook her head. "Where I will go and where I will stay might be years, even decades. It would be best if I did it alone."
"I suppose ten years on the road with company has made you yearn to be by yourself again."
"Not at all," Frieren protested. "I just thought, now that we have defeated the Demon King, that it would be you and the others who might wish to return to some sense of normalcy."
Himmel stared. "You mean, settle down?"
"Isn't that what humans do?" Frieren gestured around them. "Find a place, build a home and put their feet up? Find someone to spend the rest of their days with? I'm sure the line of girls interested in you will stretch around the corner of this street."
Himmel shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know."
He was startled when he felt Frieren pat him on the shoulder. "Well, whoever you settle on," she said. "I'm sure she'd be blessed by the Goddess to have you."
"Not that you believe in the Goddess," Himmel reminded her.
"Untrue. I believe she exists, although I am sure she's quite different to how most people imagine her."
"I think if I'd ever met her, she'd look like you." Himmel held a hand above Frieren's head, imagined patting it, and added cheekily: "Only taller of course," he added with a cheeky gesture.
Frieren shook her head in mock-horror. "That rude tongue of yours,” she said, “is something I definitely won’t miss.”
Age 28
"You remember me?" Himmel asked Frieren as they bumped into each other in a busy marketplace.
"Of course I remember you," Frieren said cheerfully. She looked him up and down and he was acutely aware of the grime on his clothes, his unkempt hair and the first bristles of a prospective beard. "Although sometimes it's a bit hard to recognize you,” she remarked.
"Whereas I'm always able to spot your face in any crowd," Himmel said and Frieren's brow furrowed. "I mean," he added hurriedly. "It's the ears. They stick out quite a bit."
"I suppose they do," Frieren agreed. "Has the Hero fallen on hard times?"
Himmel scratched his head gingerly. "No, this is new. I thought I'd try horse-riding for my travels."
"And?"
"My mare dumped me on the road a dozen times on the way here."
"I assume a week of hard rain would have also not helped in the matter."
"The years have only made you wiser."
He thought he saw the faintest smile on Frieren as she nodded and conjured her staff out of the air. Ignoring the onlookers, she cleared her throat and gestured at Himmel. In moments, as Himmel held out his hands in astonishment, the muck and mud stains dried and fell off his person like snow in the spring thaw. "I suppose I owe you one for this," he said sheepishly as he marvelled at the fabric of his cloak now restored to its pristine colour.
Frieren handed him her suitcase. "So how have you been since I last saw you?" She asked as they walked together.
Age 30
"Do elves marry?"
"No," Frieren said as they stood over a campfire warming their hands in the middle of winter. "That's one of your human customs."
"So how does an elf, you know-"
"Offer a betrothal? Pick someone and declare to the world: they are mine and I am theirs?"
"Yes."
Frieren stared up at the trees with their naked branches adorned in snow, her breath frosting in the winter’s air. "We don't,” she answered.
"Sorry?"
"We don't. My kind never had that particular instinct. It's one of the reasons my race is slowly becoming extinct. I haven't seen another elf in hundreds of years."
"But what about children?"
"Elven children are miracles. Their births happen perhaps once every dozen human generations, if not longer, and they are raised by the community as a collective whole. I remember who my mother and father, but I have few memories of them. When I was young all my elders would take on the task of raising me."
Himmel tried to imagine what that was like, being the only child in a place where everyone could claim at least to be a hundred years older and the only possibility of a meeting a younger sibling was many decades away. "I don't know what to say," he admitted eventually.
"Say nothing. It's hardly anything to be sad about. It was a long time ago."
"So I keep forgetting.”
Frieren glanced at him and misunderstood his hesitation. “It’s not your fault,” she said as she straightened and adjusted her scarf.
Age 33
"Has an elf ever fallen in love with a human?" Himmel asked. Winter had turned to spring. They were at a festival, sticking to their own table as they watched the townsfolk mingle merrily.
"Not to my knowledge," Frieren replied.
"Can they?"
Frieren closed her book, set it aside and peered at Himmel intently. "Why falling?"
"Sorry?"
"Why does love have to be a fall?"
"That's just the way people say it."
Frieren looked around, seeing many things: A city guard playing with a stray cat, a girl arguing with a boy, and an old lady watering her potted plants. "All falls hurt at the end. The greater love, the greater the fall, and most of the romances I hear about often have someone dying, and if the couple is lucky, they'll meet again in heaven though no-one can really say if such things might be true as no-one has ever come back from heaven. That aside, I never really liked such stories. Love shouldn't have to be a tragedy. Rather than falling, I'd rather leap into it with my own two feet, knowing on the way down there is someone that will be there to catch me."
"I didn't know you felt so strongly about such things."
"I've seen it in all its forms. I have developed a perspective on it."
"And what's your theory?"
"Love," Frieren said. "Comes in many forms. There is the love between friends, the love for family, and there is the love of soulmates, although this is the most evasive to pin down. No-one quite knows how it happens, and more often than not it comes down to luck, having two people meeting each other at the right time."
"So which one is ours?"
Frieren looked at him for a long, long moment. "I'm not sure," she admitted.
He doesn't know why, but when it was anyone else he heard himself speak politely, sharply, sometimes both like that time he and Eisen insulted the king. He used his tongue much like he used his sword. Every word needed to be honed and deft, but when it was Frieren, everything he wants to say comes out loose and earnest and not in the way he intended but definitely in the ways he felt.
He wants her to be ok when he's gone.
He wants her to know that when she realizes her mistake and short-sightedness, he's already forgiven her.
He wants her to know he needs her to move on and not hold onto him too tightly.
He wants her to remember that the statues will be there to remind her of him, but she will find new companions, and he will not resent them. If anything, he'd be grateful to them for accompanying her when she would rather travel alone.
He wants her to know, that for as long as it takes, he will wait outside the gates of Heaven for her, and if the Goddess herself should step out and herd him inside, he'd demand her to reserve a seat next to him at the banquet for as long as it took.
Himmel snorted and stood up from the table. He reached out with one hand as always, and like always, Frieren would take it and rise. "At least I know it's a kind of love," he joked. "And here I was thinking you secretly detested running into me throughout all these years."
“I thought it was the other way around,” Frieren countered, and Himmel wasn’t sure what she meant by that.
Age 37
"What do you think I should do if I don't find anyone?" Himmel asked. It was another winter, and once more they’ve bumped into each other at the same tavern, and it stopped being uncanny the way Frieren would resume a conversation that had happened years ago.
"I'm sure it's just a matter of time."
"But what if I run out?"
"Himmel," Frieren said bluntly. "You could have a beard stretching down to your ankles and you’d still be the most eligible bachelor in my eyes."
Himmel choked as he sipped from a keg. "Really?"
"Really."
"So why have you not asked me? Is it because you're waiting for me to pop the question first?"
Frieren frowned. "There are reasons."
"I want to hear them."
"You know them as well as I do."
"So it shouldn't be hard to explain then."
Frieren closed her book and there was a heavy thud as she set it on the table. "Have you ever owned a pet?" She asked.
"Once upon a time. It was a dog."
"What happened to it?"
"It passed away by the time I reached twelve summers."
Frieren looked down. "In some ways,” she said. “You are that same dog to me. I know you cherish my company and I know you yearn to see me as much as possible, but like that dog, I know that I will continue to endure the years long after you’re gone."
"So?"
"So, I think it would be best if you placed your hopes on others who are-"
"Human?"
"Who are able to share their life with you wholeheartedly," Frieren finished.
Age 75
Himmel looked up at the cherubic face of the young girl peering down at him. "Hello there," he rasped. "I hope you don't me saying so, young lady, but I adore your ears."
The girl froze. "I'm glad they're to your liking," she said slowly.
"They're very pointy. I wish my ears were like yours."
"You're too kind."
Himmel squinted at her, feeling a memory break the surface of his mind as he wondered at the terseness of her tone. "We're friends, aren't we?" He asked.
A smile bloomed on her face. "We are."
"We had a lot of fun times together."
"That we did."
"I am terribly sorry. I do remember you, it's just my memory's not what it used to be and sometimes I have trouble recognizing faces."
"That's quite alright. I imagine that happens when you have lived a long and fulfilling life."
Himmel sighed. He turned his head. His children had put his bed by the window so he could see the land outside and feel the breeze on his skin. "I have to confess I feel quite confused. You must have been but a baby if we'd met before, yet I feel as if we'd known each other for some time."
"Time does have a habit of passing by swiftly."
"I guess that's true." Himmel felt the girl's warm hand on his cheek. "Tell me about us. What kind of friend was I?"
The girl was silent for a long time before he'd hear her voice again. "You were the kind that changed my life forever," she answered. "If it were not for you insisting on welcoming me with open arms, such that three of your group may count among them a fourth, I am sure I'd have been all the more poorer for it." Her voice shook. "We’ve met each other several more times over the years,” she added. “We always seemed to find each other when we least expected it."
Himmel choked back a laugh. "You don’t sound pleased by that," he croaked.
"In truth, I had hoped to avoid you as long as possible."
Himmel frowned. Her words drew forth another memory. It had been something about a statue. "I apologize if I ever gave offense."
"You have nothing to apologize for. If anything, an apology should be coming from me.”
Himmel's head throbbed as her voice droned on about things he felt he ought to have understood, and he wasn't sure why she kept staring at his beard. He peered at her more closely and a faint memory returned. "Ah!" He cried out. "Frieren is your name, am I right?"
Frieren beamed. "Yes it is."
"My granddaughter, you look as lovely as ever. You must forgive this old man for being so forgetful."
Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but Himmel was sure Frieren's face fell ever so slightly. "It's about time, Grandfather," she said as she hid her hands behind her back. "But I forgive you," she added more cheerfully.
Himmel smiled and closed his eyes. “That is good to hear.”
Frieren’s voice softened. "You know,” she whispered. “While we’re on the subject of apologies, I too have something that I must tell you. A long time ago, you asked me a question. I denied you, and while I had wanted to give you a proper explanation, I could never find the right moment for it.”
Himmel’s chest seized up. He wanted her to stop. He knew but did not know what she was about to say. “None is needed,” he wheezed. “Whatever the quarrel was, it has passed. Come, come, this talk of making amends is saddening. Let us leave it in the past where it belongs.”
“Not to me. If you will not hear what I have to say, can you at least let me say it aloud before you if only to make peace with myself?”
“Very well then.” Himmel opened his eyes. “But first,” he rasped as he struggled to lift himself up. “Help me out of this bed so that we can go outside, far from these walls with their prying ears.” As he roused himself, hearing the sound of children running about the house, he realized that he could not see his walking stick anywhere. He turned to Frieren and opened his mouth to ask if she had seen it, only to come face to face with her bearing a familiar looking red staff ending in a gold crescent.
“Will this do?” Frieren whispered as she turned the rod in her hands and held it out before him to take.
After a long moment of hesitation, he reached out and felt his cold hand brushed over her warm fingers. For a moment, something adorning the middle finger caught his eye, and upon recognition, he felt his body move of its own accord as he jerked his arm back with a suddenness that sent pain jolting up into his shoulder and a cold spasm to run down his back. “I’m fine,” he gasped as Frieren’s eyes widened in alarm at the sight of him trembling. “The infirmities of old age,” he explained with a false chuckle as he waited for the shuddering to subside. “We must all learn to face them one day.”
Once again, he saw the glistening diamonds appear in Frieren’s eyes as he accepted the staff and began to limp to the door. He wondered again what it was that made the girl act so composed, speak so sensibly and look so sorrowful despite her attempts to hide it, for one so young as her.