"Where've you been?"
"North. No reason, just ended up there."
"Sounds like you."
I sip tea, Eisen across from me. A bizarre sight—a demon and a dwarf sharing tea. Nothing new, though. Linie's off, playing with her new Hero's Sword in the forest. Free-spirited, maybe the most demonic of us.
I recount the past, bit by bit. Nothing notable since Vir's village—just drifting through the north, changing hideouts. A preparation phase, maybe, figuring out our life now. Eisen listens, silent or nodding, unlike Himmel or Heiter. How did these guys travel together for a decade?
"Have you seen Himmel?"
Eisen asks quietly, likely waiting for the right moment. His expression hides it, but his demeanor gives it away. Pointless kindness for a demon like me. He's as soft as the others.
"No. It's only been two months."
"I see."
I answer honestly—no need to lie. Two months is nothing, a blink for demons. Too soon to visit. It'd look desperate, and Himmel would tease me.
Eisen falls silent, wanting to say something but holding back. I understand what it means. I've changed.
"No need to worry. I won't make him wait fifty years like someone."
I echo my words to Himmel—I'm not that elf. Why must I keep saying it? Eisen's words: that elf's a sinful woman.
"Only you'd say that."
"Mocking me?"
"Praising you."
He teases, amused. Typical Eisen.
"Himmel said something similar. You're all alike."
They're cut from the same cloth—bleeding hearts, aligned without conspiring, following Himmel's lead, though he might not see it.
"Did Himmel say anything?"
"Yeah, if I'd come back. Must be his trauma."
I recall Himmel's parting words, unlike him, likely due to that elf. Waiting fifty years was too much, even for him. A human trauma, maybe.
Eisen goes quiet, pensive. Didn't Himmel tell him? Is it worth brooding over? I said I'd visit. Not enough?
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. You're a sinful woman."
"Sorry, demons don't get sin."
"Convenient excuse. You've gotten shrewd."
"Whose fault is that?"
He dodges like always, blaming his warrior nature. After fifty years of their antics, I've earned my sharpness. I'll never outtalk that monk, though.
"Heard from Himmel—you got invited to see the Era Meteor Shower in six months."
"Yeah, I declined. Got a problem?"
The topic shifts to the meteor shower. I'd rather avoid it, but Eisen heard—Himmel confessed, probably. That ex-Hero's always meddling.
"Expected. Himmel regretted it. He got carried away, freeing you."
"Big nuisance for me."
Eisen's sensible, unlike Himmel. A kid could see it. Still baffles me. He's such a child sometimes.
"He wanted me to befriend that elf. What was he thinking?"
"Friends, huh? Classic Himmel. You declined that too?"
"He didn't tell you? On hold. I said I'd consider it if he wins her over."
"That's tough."
I spill more—Himmel's bigger blunder: making me and that elf friends, a fairy tale beyond human-demon coexistence. Delusion, really. I put it on hold, but the condition's near impossible. Even the Hero who slew the Demon King couldn't crack her millennium of obliviousness in a decade. Yet he's trying again.
"If I join, we won't see meteors—we'll be fighting. He didn't get that?"
"He's blind to himself. You know that better."
"True. He'll woo her after the meteors—if he can catch her."
"Catch her, huh? Quite a challenge."
It's unthinkable. Meeting that elf would spark a fight, not immediately with Himmel there, but no meteor-watching. I don't care for meteors, but I'm not getting dragged into that mess. Himmel's cooled off by now. He'll mention me post-meteors, surely.
"Do you think that heartless elf will show?"
It hinges on Frieren keeping her promise. I press Eisen, not with magic, for the truth.
"She's heartless but keeps promises. She'll come."
"Fine. Let's say so."
Eisen smiles, confessing. If she doesn't, I'll need Zerie's elf-finding magic—if it exists. Legendary, probably.
"What about you? Really not going?"
Now he presses me. I'd usually lie, but with him, it's fine.
"…After you all see the meteors, I'll go. Gotta have her prepped about me, or it's a hassle."
I confess, like when honesty saved me. Old habit. Six months from now seems right—not too eager. As I muse—
"Good. I'll bolt after the meteors."
"Huh?"
Eisen's baffling words interrupt.
"Why?"
"Obvious. I'm scared."
"Of what?"
"Frieren. Her and Himmel's drama is inevitable. I'm not getting caught in it."
He's serious—his battered hands tremble. Unbelievable. What's he on about? So cowardly, despite his warrior bravado.
"You call her heartless but think you're fine?"
"I'm a coward. No issue. You haven't seen her tantrums. Never again. Heiter'd agree."
He recalls, head bowed. I've heard her fits are intense, scaring even these forgiving guys. Heiter'd vanish, probably off sweet-hunting in the capital with Eisen.
"Fair… I'm losing the urge to go."
"Then we escape together. We're comrades."
"I'm not in your Hero's Party."
The legendary warrior tries roping me in as an accomplice. I'm regretting this promise.
"Eisen, let's train! I wanna use this sword!"
Linie returns from the forest, sword raised, like when she dragged Himmel to train.
"Fine, but I can't block swords anymore. I'm old."
"Blocking with your body's already weird."
Eisen rolls up his sleeves, eager. Linie said he stopped training with her, but it's relative. He might think failing to block with his body is decline. Our standards differ. He's a monster.
"Come back by dinner, Linie. Eisen, I'm using your kitchen."
"Thanks. Handle it."
"Eisen, hurry!"
I see them off, preparing dinner like before—
"She's finally asleep. Noisy as ever."
"Looks grown, but unchanged."
"Your fault for spoiling her."
"I barely see her. Your fault—Himmel's, really."
Night falls, chilly. Linie sleeps soundly, maybe from training or her new sword. Quiet now, like fifty years ago. Himmel's to blame, though I started it.
"Surprising. Didn't think you'd visit."
"Calling me heartless?"
"No. Demons don't do that without reason."
Eisen eyes me, likely thinking this since we met. Sharp, unlike that monk. He gets demons, maybe as a long-lived dwarf.
"…Too perceptive. Here's why."
Not surrendering, I place a bag on the table, revealing its contents—my reason for coming.
"That's…"
"Your beloved liquor. Himmel gave it to me. An excuse to send me here, Heiter's idea."
"Typical of them."
Wine, cursed to me, nostalgic to them. Same bottle as that day, from Himmel, for Eisen. A ploy to make me visit. Heiter's scheme, no doubt. Eisen sees through it. They're disgustingly close.
"Not drinking? Thought you waited for Linie to sleep."
I don't move, so Eisen questions. True—Linie awake means no drinking. It's why I came, partly. But not all.
"Right… Like Linie said, no lies. Even without this wine, I had business with you."
I'd have come without it.
"A continuation. Humor me, Eisen."
I open the bottle, pour, resuming that night's debate.
The first time Aura consulted anyone—