Frieren, nestled comfortably in her rocking chair, pressed a damp cloth to her forehead and closed her eyes, seeking to gather her thoughts and find a moment of respite.
The recent "incident," where her apprentice Fern had nearly suffocated her with her "voluptuous charms," was now behind her.
The silver-haired elf relished the quiet, having sent Fern to practice her magic. Frieren intended to surrender to the unhurried rhythm of life, contemplating the surrounding nature.
But then, her eye twitched.
Well, here we go again...
Ding!
That cursed, persistent sound echoed through her mind, and the elf instinctively pressed her hands to her delicate, elongated ears, but to no avail!
It wouldn't stop!
She couldn't figure out how to silence it. Even with her vast experience and mastery of magic, she found herself for the first time at a loss for how to tackle this problem.
Outwardly, Frieren maintained her composure, her face as stoic as ever. But within, frustration was brewing…
As her patience neared its breaking point, she resolved to do something—anything—and inadvertently opened what appeared to be a "blue window."
Beginning to navigate it, Frieren read several messages… but how could she send her own?
Suddenly, while pondering a discussion about "undead," her thought was accidentally transmitted as a message!
"Undead? They can be destroyed with a simple purification spell."
Frieren froze, astonished.
Did I do that?
Curiosity, that eternal companion of the elven nature, took hold. She dove headfirst into exploring the system, discerning in it distant traces of a magical connection, an intertwining of minds across distances.
How does this work?
Frieren's emerald eyes gleamed with intrigue. She began to study this unknown form of magic, akin to a remote link, and tried to understand its mechanics.
Curiosity utterly consumed the elf, and soon she discovered a section labeled "Grimoires."
Her eyes widened: before her lay a vast collection of books, with no end in sight to the scrolling!
In anticipation, Frieren began to click on everything—the sum of points quickly exceeded a million…
When the knowledge-hungry elf found a "select all" button and marked every grimoire, she unhesitatingly clicked "buy."
"Warning! Insufficient funds!"
"M? What are funds?" Frieren muttered, bewildered, staring at the screen.
Why can't I obtain these books? Is this something like a remote library?
Sighing with disappointment, she realized that payment was required and shook her head, chiding herself for her naiveté.
Continuing to examine the features, she found notification settings and sound options.
Her joy knew no bounds!
By setting the sound to the lowest level, the diminutive elf felt a sense of serenity for the first time in years—despite the chat having appeared only recently…
Then she stumbled upon a "Gacha" section. Only a free daily spin was available. Shrugging, Frieren activated it.
"Congratulations! Received 70 points!"
Her expression remained impassive and indifferent; she simply shrugged, unsure if it was a lot or a little.
But, upon looking at the prices of the grimoires, she understood:
Too little…
Nevertheless, Frieren found a few cheaper books and spent all her points.
Silence.
Where are the books?
The points were gone, but nothing had appeared!
The elf began to investigate again and found a section called "Inventory"—there, in fact, were her purchases.
Clicking "receive," she watched as a small book materialized before her. Instantly grasping it with both hands and clutching it to her chest, Frieren opened the book. Joy flickered in her green eyes as she devoured the contents.
As is often the case in life, the most interesting things ended all too quickly.
With a slight pang of disappointment that the book was finished, she placed it on the table, but wasn't entirely disheartened, as she now knew another spell!
Wasting no time, Frieren decided to try it out. She looked at her nails, which began to change color until they settled on a delicate silver hue.
The elf nodded: the spell worked, and the "chat" was clearly real.
Interesting… who could have created something like this?
Frieren was amazed by this form of magic and the scale of the work.
The effort put into such a thing was truly enormous. Even with her thousand years of experience studying magic, she couldn't imagine how it worked.
Moreover, she wanted to meet the creator and, if possible, converse about it.
Next, Frieren retrieved the remaining books she had purchased. In terms of content, they were no different from the first: they described the functionality of simple magic, nothing particularly useful.
For example, a spell to change eye color or maintain constant humidity.
Lost in her reading and warmed by a mug of warm milk with clarified butter, the elf imperceptibly fell asleep. Her eyes closed, and she was soon snoring away, deep in slumber…
***
The awakening was torturous. Her eyes stubbornly refused to open, as if pleading:
Please, just sleep on. What's the problem?
But even an elf was not immune to the needs of the body – hunger, thirst, or, in this case, nature's call.
Letting out a heavy yawn and rubbing her eyes, she tried to orient herself in the darkness. Moonlight, filtering through the window, was the only source of illumination. Stumbling over furniture and painfully bumping into things a couple of times, Frieren fumbled for the oil lamp and lit it.
A soft, diffused light filled the room, and even in her semi-sleep state, Frieren noticed the changes. She distinctly remembered not falling asleep in her own bed and certainly not in this white nightgown.
"Fern, as always, took care of me…" the elf immediately realized, understanding who had moved and changed her.
Such moments happened from time to time, and she mentally thanked her apprentice.
Holding the lamp in her hand, Frieren made her way to the toilet, yawning deeply and cutely rubbing her eyes as she went.
Having done her business, she was just about to return to bed and dive back into her dreams when she suddenly froze.
"Mmm… Ah-ha!"
Huh? Is that from Fern's room?
Her long elven ears twitched repeatedly, trying to catch every sound.
Again, a muffled moan:
"A-ah! M-m-m…"
That's… Fern's voice? Is she unwell?
Frieren decided to check on her apprentice, perhaps she needed help?
As a mentor, she felt a duty to care for her student.
Approaching Fern's room, she noticed the door was ajar, with the faint glimmer of candlelight peeking out from underneath. Drawing closer and reaching for the doorknob, she heard the sounds grow louder and paused, hesitant.
In the dim light of the room, illuminated only by the flickering flame of a candle, stood Fern, dressed in a light white nightgown…
Her face was flushed, beads of sweat trickled down her cheeks, and she was breathing heavily, with pauses between each breath. One hand was lowered and moving in some sort of rhythm, while the other touched her chest. Her back arched periodically, her eyes were closed, and the apprentice seemed focused on something.
Frieren immediately understood everything.
So… Fern's already at that age? — the elf stated the obvious, nodding to herself.
She had heard about it, not just from books and conversations.
Her apprentice had reached the stage where people begin to take an interest in each other and fall in love.
For elves, including Frieren, such feelings were alien. Their race rarely experienced attraction, making relationships and procreation a challenging endeavor.
She was about to close the door, not wanting to disturb Fern in her exploration of herself and her body, when she suddenly heard a moan, different from the previous ones:
"A-ah! M-mistress F-frieren! P-please, d-don't hold back!"
Frieren froze in the doorway, her eyes widening for a moment.
Huh? Fern called my name?
Indeed, her apprentice had spoken her name, but… why?
For Frieren, it was strange and incomprehensible. She shook her head, not wanting to delve deeper, and simply wanted to close the door and return to her own room - quite a bit of time had already passed.
"M-mentor!?" Fern's loud voice rang out in the room, involuntarily drawing Frieren's attention.
With her green eyes, the elf saw her apprentice: Fern stared directly at her with surprise and wide violet eyes, covering herself with a blanket.
Her face remained red, and Fern somehow looked frightened.
Frieren decided to open the door completely - her apprentice had addressed her directly, it would be impolite to ignore her.
They stared at each other, and a deathly silence fell.
Neither knew what to say. One had been caught in an indecent act and was at a loss, not knowing how to react.
If one could describe the feelings of a teenager encountering such an experience for the first time, Fern perfectly fit the description.
And Frieren…
She was no longer young, and as a mentor, she should behave like an adult: guiding young minds, teaching about life.
But what to say? Comfort? Support?
The elf's brain worked slowly, especially when it came to human emotions, so she acted in her usual, straightforward manner.
"It's alright, Fern. I understand everything. It's natural for people and…" the elf's voice sounded dry, monotonous, and devoid of emotion.
At first, this caused confusion for Fern, but suddenly she puffed out her cheeks like a hamster, turned even redder, her eyes teared up, and she began to cry.
Frieren broke off, again feeling completely helpless.
Now the scene in the room was this: an apprentice whose tears adorned the beautiful face of a violet-haired girl, and a silver-haired elf who was lost and didn't understand what she had done wrong?
***
Seeing her apprentice burst into tears, Frieren felt a chill creep through her. Cold sweat broke out, and she frantically tried to figure out how to calm Fern as quickly as possible.
It boded ill for the elven woman if her apprentice fell into such a state – it could lead to future problems.
But what did I do wrong?
Frieren didn't realize she should have approached the matter more delicately: speaking in a warmer tone, trying to be closer, offering warmth and comfort, like a mother. After all, Fern had lost her parents, and Heiter had taken care of her upbringing, but he hadn't had time to teach her much and had left the girl in the elf's care.
She needed to be gentler, whisper words of comfort and support, offer a warm gaze… But when the words are spoken in a dry, emotionless tone, and the face is as impassive as a brick – and this comes from someone Fern respected and, deep down, considered closer than she realized – in the end, she couldn't handle it emotionally and poured out her feelings in tears, finding release through them.
Fern, burying her face in the blanket, wept, her tears flowing like a stream. She herself hadn't expected such a reaction.
Until recently, she hadn't thought about such things.
It all started small. When Fern was simply taking a bath and carefully running her hands over her body until, at one point, they stopped at a more intimate place. At first, they were cautious movements, like an itch: a hesitant touch where a light jolt of electricity shot through her. Driven by curiosity and instinct, her hands began to act more actively – and before she knew it, her fingers were busily working in her crotch, causing increasingly unknown but pleasant sensations.
Her body tingled and went numb periodically, and when Fern was on the verge of climax, a powerful surge pierced her mind: her body trembled, and something came out of her.
She was mentally embarrassed, thinking she had inadvertently relieved herself, but the color was clearly different…
After that, Fern tried not to pay attention to the incident in the bathroom, but treacherous, intrusive thoughts and temptation constantly beckoned – it became unbearable to endure and restrain herself.
One fleeting experience had opened Pandora's box, and now she periodically indulged in this "naughty" activity.
But is it so bad if it feels good?
Fern didn't think so.
Perhaps she should find a boyfriend.
But where?
The nearest village was several days away, and everyone there was either related to each other or already taken. If she had met Stark, things might have turned out differently, but they hadn't encountered him yet.
And then there was the sudden, unusual conversation with her mentor…
The elf was clearly to blame, asking a ridiculous and stupid question:
"Is love possible between girls?"
It was outrageous, embarrassing, and absurd in essence!
But for some reason… quite interesting and persistent – it wouldn't leave Fern's head…
Involuntarily, her violet eyes began to look more closely at her mentor, and mentally she uttered:
Has Mentor always been so… beautiful?
Fern knew that Frieren was attractive and beautiful – it caused envy and even jealousy.
Such smooth, soft, pleasant-to-the-touch skin that you couldn't take your eyes off! And no problems with it.
Although Fern didn't suffer from it either, but only thanks to moisturizing masks made from special plants and constant skincare.
Her hair would become oily or too dry, her skin oily or over-dried, which made her irritable.
And Frieren?
No matter how she got up, no matter how scruffy and lazy she looked, her hair always remained soft and pleasant, her face – bright and gentle.
It annoyed Fern!
All Mentor needed to do was wash her face and hair, comb it after waking up – and the beautiful, attractive elf was ready for the world.
Unfair!
When Fern once again found her mentor sleeping over her books and, slightly annoyed, decided to put this negligent woman to bed, she involuntarily froze while changing her clothes.
Frieren's naked, beautiful body was in her hands: touching her mentor's petite breasts – at least Fern was winning somewhere, her own were bigger, as was her height – she felt a pleasant softness, quite different from the touch of her own body…
Temptation washed over her: she wanted to touch more, to kiss, to wander over this sinful body… But she woke up in time – it was very bad!
She felt ashamed of such thoughts about her mentor, and she quickly put on her nightgown in embarrassment and shame, retreating to her own room.
But these thoughts, like a curse, obsessively haunted her.
Fern decided to give them an outlet in her usual way.
And so, her fingers wandered over her body again. Before, there was no clear picture, no fantasies – just a ritual. But now she closed her eyes, and her imagination ran wild: an image of Frieren appeared, and the sensations became completely different!
Although new, interesting, but before there was no spark – just routine without thoughts.
What to fantasize about?
She rarely saw men, and even then, they were clothed.
Perhaps she would imagine their lower parts, but how could she imagine something she hadn't seen?
Fern, hiding her face in the blanket, felt humiliated.
Her violet eyes, full of tears, avoided her mentor's gaze. Frieren, in complete confusion, stepped forward but stopped.
What should I say? Hug her?
Her elven nature offered no answer.
The silence in the room grew heavier, and Fern's tears continued to flow, leaving Frieren in utter bewilderment.
Nevertheless, Frieren made up her mind: she sighed heavily and approached her negligent apprentice. She, in turn, had already covered her face with the blanket and clearly didn't want to see her mentor – she was ready to sink through the floor.
Fern cringed more tightly, hearing the approaching steps, but suddenly felt something soft, warm, and gentle on her head.
"There's no need to worry, Fern. Everything is alright. Really," she heard warmer words, and Frieren's hand wandered over her apprentice's head, gently running her fingers through her hair.
Fern cautiously removed the blanket from her face and saw her mentor smiling slightly – the smile was weak, barely noticeable, but for some reason, more sincere and alive.
So unfair… Mentor.
She felt concern in Frieren's deep green eyes – she clearly didn't know how to express emotions but tried to do her best to help.
Fern felt it, and a pleasant warmth spread through her soul at the same moment: her cheeks flushed even more, and her violet eyes began to wander anywhere but at the elf's face.
Why do I feel so good and so awkward at the same time?
A multitude of new emotions overwhelmed Fern's mind, and she simply didn't know how to behave at this moment.
"If you need help… then just tell me, Fern. I'll help you," the words were spoken in a flat tone, as was the expression on her face, but at the same time… they seemed warmer than before.
"R-really?" Fern involuntarily blurted out, and she herself hadn't expected that from herself: she immediately covered her mouth with her hands, staring with wide, wet eyes at her mentor, whose face leaned slightly toward her.
"Really, Fern. Just tell me what's wrong, and… I'll help you. I promise," Frieren said, trying to speak as warmly as possible, to the best of her ability, providing maximum help and support.
The most important thing is to find out the reason and understand how to help her apprentice.
Nothing else occurred to the elf except to ask directly: perhaps Fern could tell her everything?
Right?
At the same time, Frieren was sweating all over inside – if she left her apprentice in such a state, what would happen later?
Who would change my clothes?
Who would make breakfast, bathe, and comb my hair?
If I lose Fern here and now, all of that will come to an end!
I can't allow that to happen!
Frieren nodded to herself.
Right now, the situation is a matter of life and death!
"T-then… m-mistress F-Frieren… would you mind kissing me?" Fern said in a faltering, trembling voice, barely able to pronounce the last word.
At the same time, she kept casting embarrassed glances to the side and at her mentor, not knowing what to expect.
"Alright," followed the elf's immediate response, which once again plunged Fern into confusion.
Did I hear right? Is this real?
Frieren answered affirmatively, without hesitating for a second, and mentally added:
Since Fern needs this, so be it. The main thing is that she's happy.
The elf didn't care – what is a "kiss"?
An exchange of fluids? A touch of skin?
For her, it remained a mystery:
Why? What for?
Frieren knew that it was an act of intimacy or an expression of feelings, but the question didn't interest her – it was unnecessary and boring. But since Fern wanted it… then she was ready.
Fern, meanwhile, was in even greater confusion, lost in her own thoughts.
Is this a dream? Or just a reverie?
She didn't understand, but since her mentor didn't mind…
Fern tried to even out her breathing, to calm her racing heart. She closed her eyes, slowly inhaling air through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Her palms were slightly sweaty and trembling – she was clearly nervous.
After calming down a little, Fern opened her eyes and stared at the waiting elf, expecting further action.
After all, Frieren herself didn't know what to do?
Since her apprentice had asked for a kiss and knew what it was, let her take the initiative, and she would simply wait for it to end and go back to sleep with a clear conscience.
And so, seeing such an imperturbable, not at all embarrassed look from Frieren – she wasn't nervous and didn't blush – it only made Fern angrier!
Why is Mentor always so expressionless and not embarrassed by anything, not caring about anything?
Her face became like a hamster again: her cheeks puffed up, and she looked resentfully at Frieren, who only tilted her head with a silent question.
When will all this end? And I can sleep peacefully?