"What's with that guy?"
I mutter, same as when I first met Heiter. Spouting nonsense, then gone. Elusive as ever, especially today. What's he scheming? Depressing to face him again in the Holy Capital.
"Typical Heiter. Still a reeking monk," Himmel says.
"Now a white-haired monk," Linie adds.
"Don't say that, Linie, or no candy," Himmel chides.
"It's fine. Already got snacks."
Linie puffs her chest, unfazed. Doesn't even register the scolding. Himmel's too soft on her, like Heiter. This is the result. Should learn from Eisen.
Himmel sinks into his chair—a rocking chair, Eisen's handmade birthday gift. What's Eisen up to? Probably enjoying retirement most. Anyway—
"Still a barren room. Eating properly?"
I sit on a plain chair, scanning the sparse space. Bare essentials only. Not quite minimal—just excessive. Nothing like the village house. Does he even live here?
"Of course. Enough for a bachelor," Himmel replies calmly.
No issue for him, apparently. A bachelor's excuse. Then I recall—he's a wanderer, a migratory bird, per Heiter. Always flitting about. This capital house is his base, but he rarely stays long. The village was the exception.
"Apples! Can I have one, Himmel?"
"Go ahead. Bought them for you."
Linie rummages like a kid, finding treasure. Typical master-disciple behavior, like Stroh or Lily. No, Lily wasn't this wild.
Linie's eyes gleam at the apples Himmel prepared, anticipating our visit. Always one step ahead.
Then I notice it—a dresser radiating a sinister aura, out of place in this room.
"Still keeping that horn? Not a nuisance yet?"
I scowl, knowing exactly what it is: the Dark Dragon's horn, stored since my first visit. Dangerous.
"Used to it. It's entrusted to me, can't toss it," Himmel says.
Eccentric, even for him. A relic from the Demon King's castle fifty years ago, but mainly because she entrusted it. His distant look—thinking of that elf again. Not Serie, but just as odd.
It shows in his recent life. Usually wandering, he's stayed in the capital, likely waiting for her. Their promised time nears. She doesn't know about the village house, so he waits here to avoid missing her. He'd never admit it. I stayed in the Holy Capital to avoid his mess—trouble's guaranteed.
"Right… almost fifty years. Time flew, thanks to you, Aura. Thank you."
"My fault? Feeling old age fast isn't worth gratitude."
"Maybe for you demons."
Fifty years—over half a human's life. He thanks me for its speed. Ridiculous. Their short lives, and he's happy? Blaming me is deflection. His usual wry smile—another clash of demon and human, a sight I'm tired of.
"Soon it's the half-century Era Meteor Shower. Ever seen it, Aura?"
His words jolt me. The Era Meteor Shower—means nothing to me. Yet, I squint. Not my memory—it's significant to him.
"No way. Even if I did, I wouldn't remember."
"Really? You've had at least ten chances."
"Getting sly in old age."
"Elderly wisdom."
I dismiss it coolly. Why would a demon care? Humans, naming stars, finding meaning—don't they have better things to do?
Himmel strikes back, poking at my 'old' jabs. Like Heiter's tactics. They're best friends—or age's effect. Either way, a nuisance.
"But it's beautiful. Worth waiting fifty years to see again."
He's lost in memory, gazing elsewhere. The meteor shower's beauty isn't a lie, but it's not what he craves. He'll be captivated by her.
"Good for you. Wait a bit, and your wish comes true. Keep struggling till then."
I look away, unsure if I'm lying. No point continuing this—it's meaningless to me. Yet—
"Aura, want to watch it with us?"
After a long silence, his question stuns me.
"Why would I, a demon, join your hero party for that?"
I'm floored but manage a reply. What's he thinking? His recklessness I know, but this is beyond. What am I to him?
"…No good, huh?"
"Obviously. I didn't make that promise. Go without me. Leave me out."
His self-awareness is slight relief, but knowing and asking is worse. Senile? I'm a demon, maybe his friend, but not part of his party. Why drag me into their promise? He should know better. Did he think I'd follow? Even under obedience, no way.
"It's fine. Heiter and Eisen would be thrilled. You're one of us."
"What about me, Himmel?"
"You too, Linie."
He misreads my reaction, insisting I'm family, including Linie. I know that. If it were just that, I might've joined in a whim. But not this time. Why?
"I refuse. If that elf shows, she'd kill me. No thanks."
Frieren might come. Why do I need to be there for their reunion?
"Right… Sorry, I was selfish."
Did he forget, or was my tone too harsh? He deflates visibly. Fool. He should've known. Fifty years, and his naive honesty persists.
"Stop spouting nonsense. Worry about whether that elf shows. She's heartless—miss this, and you'll meet in heaven next."
I glance at Linie, munching apples, and tell him. No joke—she might skip it, saying "see you in fifty years."
No need for extra thoughts, for me or him. He should focus on himself for once, not others. Fifty years of that. Heiter'd say the Goddess allows it.
"Right. But it's okay—you're worried for me. You're my goddess, not just the Holy Capital's."
"Idiot."
He reads my mind, equating me to a goddess—insulting. The Holy Capital's bad enough. Another Eisen-worship moment? Yet, he smiles, typical. Infuriating, but that's us.
"So? Why the letter? Not for this nonsense, right?"
I pivot, back to the point. Why summon us to the capital, by letter no less? Was it for this? If so, hopeless.
"Harsh, but very you…"
He stands, amused despite his troubled look, fetching something prepared. Why can't he plan like that for himself?
"What's that?"
On the table, a worn bag—Himmel's—and a blue robe, familiar yet long unseen.
"As you see. I want to travel with you two again."
The robe matches my red one for outings.
Himmel's invitation—a journey for three, after who knows how long.
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