Twenty-six years after Hero Himmel's death. Greze Forest, Central Countries.
A gentle sway accompanies our journey along the mountain path. We're hitching a ride on a merchant's wagon, a kind offer from a passerby heading to our destination village. A stroke of luck—our travels are usually on foot. Flight magic is an option, but it drains mana fast, leaving us vulnerable to monsters. I'm likely the only one worried about that.
"…?"
I glance at Lady Frieren, sitting opposite, engrossed in a book—probably a grimoire, a reward from the last village. She's oblivious to my gaze, utterly absorbed. So carefree. My magic teacher, my family, a rare elf. But more than that.
Eighty years ago, she was part of the Hero's Party that defeated the Demon King, a legendary mage with immense power and skill. Yet, she's so sloppy it overshadows her greatness.
She can't wake up in the morning—I rouse her, prepare breakfast, brush her hair, dress her. I'm practically her mother, the opposite of Lady Aura. I once said they're alike, but in this, they're polar opposites.
That's not all. She collects grimoires as rewards for quests or helping others. Fine, but they're always useless, bizarre ones. It's her hobby, but I don't get the appeal. Unlike me, she purely loves magic.
Her worst trait isn't sloppiness or grimoire obsession—it's her elven sense of time. She rushes through villages, avoiding lingering or helping, unlike her time with Lord Heiter. She said:
"Your time is short, Fern. We need to hurry."
Uncharacteristic of her. I appreciate it, but it's too rushed, relentless. When I pointed this out, she'd suggest staying over a year. She knew it wasn't like her, struggling with the unfamiliar. She's traveled alone most of her life, so it's understandable, but still odd.
"Fine, you handle our schedule, Fern."
Grumbling not to be mad, she left time management to me. It helped—she's returning to her usual self. She was straining, and I got dragged along, but I don't mind. Her clumsy care for me shines through.
(Such an awkward person…)
My hand touches the butterfly hair accessory she gave me during our journey. "I don't understand you," she often says. She's hopelessly dense, maybe uninterested in me. She took me as her disciple only due to a promise with Heiter. Yet, she's strange—trying hard to know me despite her struggles. She thinks it's not enough, but it is. I've never said it, too shy, but she's like another mother to me.
My eyes catch her left ring finger—a mirror-lotus ring. Despite years together, parts of her remain a mystery.
(Was Lady Frieren in love with Lord Himmel?)
Even I, naive to the world, know a ring on the left ring finger means something. I looked up mirror-lotus: eternal love, a gift for lovers. She only started wearing it recently, on this journey. She, who shuns adornments, surprised me. When asked, she quietly, happily said Himmel gave it to her. It must be priceless to her.
I feel the same. Her hair accessory, Heiter's staff, Aura's grimoire—irreplaceable to me, who lost everything in the war. More treasures will come. I pull out a grimoire from my bag: one for summoning flower fields, a gift from her.
'The Scales' Aura.
Her name and title. A demon ruling Freesia in the Northern Countries. We met when she visited Heiter to revise Freesia's scriptures. At first, I feared her—cold, distant, barely speaking to me. That changed with this grimoire. Desperate to prove myself, I begged her to teach me magic. She refused, leaving, but perhaps pitied me. She showed me a blue-moon flower field with magic, a sight burned into my memory.
"I have that spell's grimoire. Borrow it and learn yourself."
She left, and I studied alone. I knew she watched from afar, maybe more for Linie, who played with me, than for me. That opened her up—she treated me normally. Later, I learned she feared I'd misunderstand demons.
(Demons… Is 'Guillotine' her true demonic title?)
Demons deceive and devour humans, humanity's enemy. I know this, but it doesn't fit Aura or Linie. I wondered if I was deceived, but it doesn't feel so. Heiter insisted they're exceptions, not typical demons, as did Aura herself. To verify, I researched demons and Aura during errands with Heiter in the Holy Capital. He thought staying cooped up in the forest wasn't good for me. I learned from libraries and townsfolk.
Aura is undeniably a demon, one of the Seven Sages of Destruction, exceptionally powerful. Guillotine Aura, named for her Azerliese magic, enslaving humans, beheading them to create an undead army, feared in the Northern Countries. Unimaginable now. I understood why Frieren panicked—she feared Aura controlled Heiter or me.
Defeated by the Hero's Party, then by Himmel, she became his servant. She served faithfully, later aiding Heiter in the Holy Capital. After Himmel's death, as Heiter retired, she founded the demon nation Freesia, where she now rules.
That's Aura's rough history from the Holy Capital. Few records exist, likely because a demon ruler isn't openly acknowledged, especially after Heiter's retirement.
(Is her demonic nature why Frieren despises her?)
Frieren clearly dislikes Aura, though she rarely says so. Her attitude betrays it. Understandable—she fought demons and the Demon King's army, losing her homeland and family to them. Hatred is natural. But there's more.
Aura lived with Himmel for years.
It started with Linie, Himmel's first disciple and Aura's servant, a demon. She happily shared their life together, a joy to hear. Despite her age, Linie's innocence feels sisterly. I regret not reciprocating her warmth, but—
(What was Aura and Himmel's relationship?)
It nags me. From Linie, they seemed like a couple, a family with her. But Linie denied it—demons don't grasp family. They were friends; she and Aura were master-servant, she and Himmel master-disciple. Incomprehensible to me, a human. I hesitated to ask Aura, so I asked Heiter once.
"It's a bit early for you, Fern. I'll explain when you're older."
He dodged. It must be adult stuff. I didn't press, not knowing then about Himmel's ring to Frieren.
(Was Himmel… unfaithful?)
Living with Aura while loving Frieren—cheating, two-timing in human terms. I know that much. I recall a naughty fairy tale Heiter hid, where a man loved two women. Scandalous.
(No, that's disrespectful to the Hero. There must be a deeper reason.)
Linie said they were friends, and I don't think she lied. Maybe friends live together, and I'm clueless. Himmel was the Hero—surely there's a special reason. As I ponder—
"What's wrong, Fern? Zoning out? Tired?"
"No, just thinking."
"We're almost there. Get ready."
"Yes."
Frieren, done reading, startles me. So carefree. Traveling with her for a decade earns Heiter and the others my respect.
"The village we're heading to—Sage Qual's sealed there, right?"
"Yup. I told you. Forget already?"
"No, but is it okay for me to come? Even with the Hero's Party, sealing him was tough, right?"
"No worries. I taught you the method. Follow it, and we won't lose."
I ask, but she responds casually about the village. Sage Qual, a demon who ravaged the land eighty years ago, sealed by the Hero's Party, is nearing release. Yet Frieren's unfazed. Why? They couldn't even defeat him then. She's incomprehensible.
"Then why do you seem so reluctant lately?"
Another mystery—since heading here, she's been off, not her usual quirks. Quiet, almost unwell. I thought it was Qual, but no. What, then?
"…It's nothing."
Her reply comes with the most awkward, ugly face.
(She's hiding something!)
She's terrible at lying. Years with her tell me this means trouble—useless purchases, usually. The hair accessory was an exception, rare. Something bad awaits in this village, I'm sure, as we're carried like calves to slaughter.
"Here we are…"
We arrive. The merchant went ahead—Frieren's sluggish pace delayed us, like a child dreading lessons. As I despair—
"Long time no see, Lady Frieren. We've been waiting."
A woman's voice greets us, unfamiliar.
"…Who? Have we met?"
"Yes, when the Hero's Party sealed Qual. I was shy and didn't speak to you then."
A petite, elderly woman smiles softly at Frieren, who's puzzled—as am I. It's rare for villagers to recognize Frieren as part of the Hero's Party, let alone claim familiarity. Eighty years ago, she'd have been a child. Frieren doesn't remember, understandably. Sensing her confusion—
"You might recall the boy who flipped your skirt."
"Skirt…?"
I react to the bizarre comment. What?
"…That little brat."
"Yes. My husband Stroh caused trouble then. I'm Lily."
Frieren's face sours, a rare sight. Something unspoken passes between them as Lily gazes warmly.
"Nice to meet you, cute mage. You're Fern, right?"
"Yes, but how do you know my name?"
Lily addresses me, and I'm baffled. How does she know me? Frieren makes sense, but we're strangers.
"Linie told me. Said you're hardworking."
"Linie? Why's she here?"
Her name stuns me. Why her? Lily beams at my reaction.
"Linie grew up here. She lives with her sister… Lady Aura in Freesia now but visits sometimes. She must've been a handful, Fern. She's younger than she looks."
"No, she was kind. Like an older sister, it was fun."
"Good. Tell her that next time. She'll be thrilled."
It clicks—this is the village where Linie, Aura, and Himmel lived. Lily must know them well, maybe even Aura. Her grandmotherly warmth embarrasses me. I owe Linie an apology.
I catch Frieren's eye—same sour face, now laced with guilt. Her lying face, seen too often.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"…You didn't ask."
She pouts like a scolded child, a pathetic excuse. I'll have to scold her later.
"You two are close. Welcome, mages."
Lily smiles, welcoming us to the village where past and present intertwine, the moment Frieren steps into the epilogue of a diary's tale.
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