I dream.
A nostalgic dream. I remember that figure, that voice.
But they'll fade, won't they? Slowly forgotten.
Yet, I'll surely—
"The stars are beautiful here, aren't they?"
"The Half-Century Elara Meteor isn't due yet."
Himmel gazes at the night sky, carefree and delighted, despite my pointing out it's not time for the meteor shower. He doesn't hear me, eyes sparkling like a child's. Even in old age, he hasn't changed. Heiter said something similar once, didn't he?
We're alone on this night walk, sitting side by side like fools at a ridiculous destination.
"Feels nostalgic. Remember? This is where we reunited."
"…Yeah. Wish I didn't."
It's a forest clearing just outside the village—my old magic training ground, where Himmel subdued me fifty years ago. A place of bitter fate.
"Maybe so. Back then, you were still Aura the Guillotine."
"What's that supposed to mean? I'm just me."
He's reminiscing, saying odd things. I'm exasperated—it's a humiliating memory for me. If he dragged me here just to talk about this, I'm not amused.
I shift my gaze. There stands Qual's statue, sealed for eighty years. It all began when I came to break that seal. Sealed or subdued, Qual and I are both prisoners of humans in a way. But neither of us is the same as fifty years ago. Proof of that—
"By the way… what are you planning for Qual? His seal's weakening. Thirty more years, and it'll break."
The seal on Qual is deteriorating. Fifty years have worn it down. In thirty, it'll be gone, and the demon who once ravaged this land will be free. Yet Himmel's done nothing about it. Why?
"Why leave him untouched? Linie and I could end it quickly."
It's unlike Himmel. Back then, the Hero's Party barely managed to seal Qual, but they're stronger now—Demon King slayers. Even without that elf, they wouldn't lose. Zoltraak, once feared as a killing spell, is now just another human attack magic, as Zerie predicted. I benefit from that too. Without submission magic or Linie, I could kill Qual easily. So why stop me? And—
"I've said it before, haven't I? I won't let you or Linie kill your own kind."
Himmel answers like it's obvious. I vaguely recall him saying that. He's so hung up on trivial things. And—
"Besides, this is unfinished business for the Hero's Party. We can't rely on you."
He closes his eyes, murmuring as if recalling something. It's simple, really—
"So you just want that elf to handle it. She's so cold-hearted, she's probably forgotten. Never even visited."
He's waiting for that absent elf to deal with Qual. Or maybe hoping she'll check the seal and come to the village. Even without me, he checked it yearly—probably for her. So like him. A futile effort, though. That heartless elf never showed. She might not even remember the seal. Yet—
"Maybe. But she's not so cruel as to abandon this village. She'll come when the seal breaks."
"Whatever. Do as you like."
Himmel smiles, as if that's all he needs. Such an oddball. I can't understand, but I'm past exasperation—almost impressed. What a fool.
"If she doesn't make it, you'll handle it, right, Aura?"
"That's the opposite of what you just said. Dumping it on me?"
"I'm counting on you."
"What a nuisance."
After all his grand talk, he casually relies on me. Only he'd admit to using me so openly. Normally, I'd snap back, You'll be dead by then, so I don't have to listen. But I can't. An unfamiliar feeling engulfs me. What is this?
"So? What's this talk about?"
"What? I just wanted to walk with you."
"Cut the obvious lies. How long do you think I've dealt with you?"
"Not lying… You really haven't changed. Or maybe you have, long ago."
I push back, cutting through his charade. No way he brought me here for idle chatter. His lie's transparent—not even a lie. Yet he looks troubled but calm, even serene, despite being caught.
He gazes at the sky again, but his eyes don't reflect the stars. He's lost somewhere else. I'm captivated by the sight. Silence stretches—how long?
"I'm here to keep a promise, Aura."
He turns to me, speaking as if savoring each word.
"Promise? What?"
I tilt my head. A promise? A word Himmel loves, one that's dragged me along countless times. Always trivial things I can't bother to recall. Which one is he talking about?
"You know. The promise to set you free."
A promise I don't remember—one I should have.
"…What?"
My mind goes blank. I don't understand what he's saying, what it means.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Like a human who can't grasp demon words, I swallow hard, cold sweat on my back.
"Just what it sounds like. A promise from fifty years ago. I brought you here to free you."
He stares at me, explaining. Fifty years ago, in this very place, a promise I didn't even consider one—something trivial.
"If you're lying, make it a better one. Teasing me again?"
"I wouldn't lie about this. I promised not to lie to you, didn't I?"
"That makes it weirder. Didn't you say you'd keep me bound till you die? Or are you bored of me?"
It's a lie. It has to be. He'd never free me. It was a trick to fool me. A hero wouldn't free a demon. I believed that. Is he serious? Impossible. The only time that'd make sense is when he dies—he said so himself. So why now, while he's alive?
"Yeah… I'll confess. I lied to you."
He admits it easily, like a kid caught in a prank. I'm stunned. He can't lie—he's a hero, not a demon. Yet—
"From the start, I planned to free you while I was alive."
He confesses, like a defendant, accusing himself without prompting.
"Why lie? Why not just say so?"
"I couldn't. Back then, I didn't know what you'd do if I said it right after binding you."
"…!"
His reason rings true—about me, no less. A hero would think that. But I still can't believe a hero would lie.
"You get it, don't you? Humans are all liars, Aura. I'm no different. You know now—humans are far worse liars than demons."
I can't respond. That's my answer. I've learned, over fifty years, that humans lie more than demons. Their foolishness, pettiness, malice—I've seen it all. Our lies are child's play in comparison. But Himmel including himself—I don't like that one bit.
"I didn't want you to know that… but oh well. Heiter probably regrets it more."
His face tinged with sorrow, he mentions Heiter. Why him? I recall Heiter saying something similar once. When was that?
"I got sidetracked. I decided from the start: if you granted my wish, I'd free you."
"Wish? What?"
"To be my friend. You didn't really forget, did you?"
"Yeah… I thought it was just nonsense back then."
"By the way, my dream was for humans and demons to coexist. Did I ever mention that?"
"No. That's impressive. Just a fairy tale."
The heavy mood vanishes as he gleefully spins his fairy tale. Friends—a word that's bound and swayed me for fifty years. But there's more: human-demon coexistence. I've heard it somewhere—maybe from him, maybe someone else. I dismissed it as fantasy. Only he and the Demon King would believe it.
"Maybe a fairy tale. But my dream's already come true. Thanks to you."
"What? I didn't do anything."
"Maybe not to you. But to me, it was different. I was truly happy."
His dream came true—because of me. I don't get it. I didn't do anything. All I know is he's happy about it.
"…Aura, I need to apologize."
"You, to me? What's gotten into you?"
He keeps going, ignoring my confusion. Is he still drunk?
"Listen seriously. Remember when I asked what you'd do if freed?"
"Yeah, that happened. So what?"
Another old memory. He loves nostalgia. It's a chore to recall. It was at Heiter's villa, right? I was shocked when he asked out of nowhere. What about it?
"I was going to free you then."
A confession beyond my imagination.
No, a repentance. Like the countless useless hours in the Holy Capital, dealing with human notions of sin and punishment—concepts demons can't grasp, forcing guilt on others.
I can only listen, unable to look away.
Back then—decades ago—he planned to free me. I never noticed, never considered it. Did Heiter or Eisen know? They probably did. As a demon, I couldn't see it.
"Your answer back then convinced me. You were fine. As a hero, I didn't need to bind you anymore. But… I couldn't do it."
What did I say? I can't recall—it was trivial to me. But not to him. Yet he couldn't free me.
"Why? That's not like you."
Exactly. He's decisive, a whirlwind of action, giving me no time to breathe. And—
"It was fun."
"Huh?"
A reason I can't comprehend, yet one I've heard before.
"Being with you. Living with you and Linie. I wanted it to continue, didn't want it to end. My selfishness kept you bound. I leaned on your words… I'm sorry, Aura."
That must be regret. So unlike a hero, unlike him. He's regretted keeping me bound, thinking it hurt me.
Fun. He said that once, in a forest clearing near Eisen's home. I couldn't believe it, but it wasn't a lie. Enough to make him act so out of character.
"Why apologize? You won and bound me. No need for that."
"Yeah… I knew you'd say that."
I give the same answer as before. It's pointless. In a world of survival, there's no need to care. Only humans would. My demon answer. He knows it, but the shadow on his face lingers.
"…It wasn't fun. But it wasn't bad either."
Fifty years with him, my honest truth—one I'll never voice again.
"…Good. That's a relief, Aura."
He looks surprised, then smiles—his usual, familiar smile. That's how he should be. Seeing him meek throws me off.
He stands slowly, approaching me, staff in hand instead of a sword. He kneels before me, like a knight swearing loyalty. He's too old for this, but his flair for dramatics hasn't changed.
"You… really okay with releasing me?"
I can't believe my own words. Me, saying something so impossible. I don't understand what I'm blurting out.
"You know what I might do if freed, don't you…?"
My heart races. I'm dizzy, lightheaded.
Like I'm no longer myself, trapped in a bad dream, feverish. I don't know what I'm afraid of. I'm afraid. Of what? Being freed. Why? I've longed for this moment. What's there to fear?
"If I devoured humans? That's not all. I could become a threat to you, to the Demon King. Yet—"
That's it. Nothing changes. I'd return to my true demon nature, acting and wielding power freely. No hesitation. Yet—
"You wouldn't. I know you."
He denies it—no, affirms it. My fifty years. As if seeing through all my fears.
"What do you know about me? A human like you…"
I lash out, emotional. How does he know? Like before—humans and demons, incompatible. But this time—
"Of course I know. I'm your friend."
Something exists between us, beyond that divide.
"You know it too, don't you? You don't need to worry anymore. Even without me, you have Linie. She'll be your new guide."
He clears my doubts, pointing to Linie. The role that bound me—she'll take it. I know it. With her, I can stay a scale, not a guillotine, even without him. He probably realized it before me.
"You've gotten bad at lying."
"Whose fault is that?"
An infuriating guy, to the very end.
"Aura."
My name pulls me in, his gaze and voice captivating.
"I had so much fun. I'm so glad I didn't kill you back then."
The moment he repeats those words, the chains binding me vanish. Effortlessly, as if it was all a lie. Proving his words true.
That was the moment I was freed from fifty years of submission—
"How's it feel? Free after fifty years?"
"Awful, as of now."
"That's harsh."
"Look who's talking."
The heavy air dissipates. He teases me as usual. I ignore him, checking myself. The submission's gone. I'm free, whole. But there's no thrill like the first time in the Holy Capital. Makes sense—temporary releases happened often with my magic. But that lingering tether is gone. The collar, the chain—removed. I touch my neck, feeling loss. Laughable. Just habit. It'll fade.
"Aura, I have a request for when you're free."
"What?"
He speaks formally, as if I'm not free already. No restraint. So like him. I'm exasperated, but—
"I want you to be friends with Frieren."
A request so absurd, it erases everything before.
"…Are you insane? Ready to kick the bucket?"
"Not at all. I've thought about this for fifty years. We don't live as long as you."
I freeze, but he continues. What's he thinking? Even his meteor shower invite was better.
"If I could be your friend, maybe you could be hers."
He's been planning this since he bound me. I'm certain now—he's no hero. Just a fool.
"You're always worrying about others, even till death. Ever think of yourself?"
"No worries. This is for me. Just like you."
He knows it, and that's worse. He won't change, even in death.
"You think I'd follow that order? You've got no right anymore."
"I know. It's not an order—a request. As a friend."
He anticipated my answer, replying smoothly. He waited till I was free to ask. It's Heiter's tactic—they must've schemed together. I'll bind that sleazy monk next time.
"You still think we're friends?"
"Of course. You're still wearing that freesia accessory, aren't you? For fifty years. Or was I wrong?"
"…You don't need to point it out. Idiot."
"Someone told me words matter. I've done it since."
He brings up the freesia, as if he planned it. Infuriating. He wouldn't have said that before. He's changed too—not a change I like.
"If you can convince that elf, I'll consider it. If not, give up."
I compromise, as always. Fifty years, and our dynamic hasn't changed, even without submission.
"Thanks, Aura. That's a big responsibility."
"Don't get screamed at for three days by that elf."
He smiles, enjoying himself. Let him deal with her tantrums.
We keep talking nonsense under the stars. He's still not done, despite all the chatter on the way back.
It continues until morning, when Linie comes to fetch us—
I don't remember much after. Time rushed by, a blur.
"Okay, Linie? Got everything?"
"I'm fine. Lily's such a worrier."
Lily fusses, but Linie's unbothered. She probably doesn't grasp the situation—thinks it's just a short trip with me.
I'm the same. It hasn't sunk in. I'm just going with the flow. I'm free. No reason to stay. I have to go—somewhere else. It's what I've dreamed of.
"Take care, Sis. Come back anytime. We'll be waiting."
"Yeah… maybe if I feel like it."
Stark grips my hand. Unchanged, despite knowing I'm unbound, that I could attack any moment. I'm probably the same.
Himmel watches from a distance, quiet after last night's chaos. The all-nighter must've hit him. He should act his age.
"…I'm going."
I leave with that. No more words come. They're pointless. It goes against Himmel's way. He always parted lightly, almost uncharacteristically. Said tearful goodbyes didn't suit him—too embarrassing for reunions. Such a silly reason.
"…?"
"What?"
But he's silent, eyes downcast. Not like him. Normally, he'd say, See ya, like it's nothing. I start to move when—
"…Aura, will you come back?"
In a voice so soft I barely hear, he says something so unlike him.
I understand instantly. What he's hesitating over, what he fears. And why he's acted so out of character.
"No idea what you're thinking, but… I'm not Frieren."
I give him the same words as before. To my foolish friend, still making that mistake after fifty years. Just saying it means he's improved. He can do it to that elf next.
"…Right. Then no worries. I'll look forward to it, Aura."
Relieved he won't wait fifty years, he smiles as usual. I walk off with Linie, not looking back. No need. We'll meet again.
That's what I thought. I didn't know then. I can't mock that elf anymore.
I didn't know, but I would learn. What it truly means to be freed from Himmel's submission. And to be bound by a new promise—a curse—with an emotion called regret I've yet to know—