The Turk Region's forest floor was a soft carpet of moss and damp leaves, the air rich with the scent of pine and earth. Sunlight broke through in scattered patches, dappling Frieren's white cloak and catching in Naru's orange ribbons as they walked. The girl trailed just behind, a tall staff in her hand, her steps light but deliberate—her horns glinting whenever a beam of light found them.
Frieren had been quiet for most of the journey, her mind turning over the same thought. She had taught humans magic countless times, but demons? Normally, she wouldn't have entertained the idea at all. Yet when she looked at Naru—this blank-faced, slightly clumsy little demon who spoke in the third person and sometimes ended her sentences with "dattebayo"—she found herself wanting to give her something meaningful. A first spell worth remembering. Something she could carry with her for centuries.
They came upon the hut unexpectedly, its walls weathered and its roof sagging just slightly, surrounded by neat rows of vegetables. An old woman in a faded dress was bent over a watering can, coaxing green shoots to life. When she looked up and saw them, she smiled.
"Ah, travelers. Rare to see people here."
"We're… kind of lost," Frieren said, stepping forward with her usual calm tone. "And we need shelter for the night."
"Of course, you can stay at—"
The woman's words died in her throat as her gaze slid past Frieren and landed on Naru. Her smile froze. Her eyes widened. And then—
"D-demon—!"
Naru blinked, cocking her head to the right, the ribbons on her short ponytails swaying. "What are you doing, miss?" she asked in her mild, almost monotone voice.
To Frieren, the sight was almost unbearably cute. To the old woman, it was like staring down a wolf mid-lunge. She stumbled back, the watering can tumbling from her hands, and landed hard on her backside in the dirt.
"Ah—wait—" Frieren started, but Naru, being the polite sort despite her blank expression, walked forward and held out a hand to help the woman up.
The woman screamed. It was a high, panicked sound that ripped through the quiet forest. Her eyes were wild, darting between Naru's outstretched hand and her little horns. She scrambled backward on the ground, kicking up dirt, her breathing coming in short, gasping sobs. She looked like a cornered animal, her face contorted with pure, unadulterated terror.
"She's harmless," Frieren assured, sounding more patient than persuasive. "She won't bite."
Naru's eyes drifted toward Frieren. "…Naru bites," she said flatly.
The woman looked like she'd just seen her own obituary.
"But not people," Naru added, after a pause. "Naru only bites food. Dattebayo."
Frieren didn't even blink at the clarification. She just tilted her head toward the hut. "Can we stay? It's fine if you feel uncomfortable."
"Yes! P-please, do whatever you want—just leave me alone!" the woman blurted, scrambling up and practically running to the far side of her garden.
Frieren sighed softly, motioning for Naru to follow her inside.
Inside, the hut was simple but tidy—wooden beams darkened by years of smoke, shelves lined with clay jars and bundles of dried herbs, and a small hearth with a cast-iron pot already simmering. The old woman had clearly been preparing her own dinner before they arrived.
Naru stepped inside after Frieren, her staff tapping lightly on the floor, ribbons swaying with each step. She placed the staff against the wall and went straight toward the counter where a pile of vegetables and a loaf of bread rested.
"Miss, Naru will help you cook. Dattebayo," she announced in her usual flat voice.
The woman, who was keeping the table between herself and the girl, immediately took a half-step back… then another… and then another, until she was pressed against the far wall like Naru was about to breathe fire.
Naru blinked at her once. Then again. Without another word, she picked up a knife and began chopping vegetables with quiet precision, as though the woman's absence was irrelevant. Carrots, onions, potatoes—her movements were simple, a little clumsy, but determined. She moved to the hearth, stirred the pot, and dropped them in. The smell began to change almost immediately, filling the air with a warm, hearty aroma.
The woman's eyes darted toward Frieren, who was leaning casually against the wall, her arms crossed. "Why… why is there a demon in your company?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
"She's my student," Frieren replied without hesitation.
The woman gaped. "But she's a demon! A monster! They… they eat people!"
Frieren's expression remained unchanged. "Some of them do. She has not yet. And she knows better than to try with me around."
The old woman shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. "You don't understand! They just… lie in wait. They pretend to be harmless. They wait for an opening." Her gaze shifted back to Naru, who was now pulling bread apart and dropping pieces into the soup. The sight, instead of comforting her, seemed to terrify her even more. "Look at her! She's acting like a child, but you know what she's capable of! It's all a trick!"
Frieren's lips curled just slightly, a trace of amusement in her voice. "Odd, isn't it?"
The old woman didn't answer, still staring at Naru.
When the food was ready, Naru carried three bowls to the table, setting them down with surprising care. She took the seat across from the old woman and just… stared. Wide blue eyes, unblinking, fixed directly on her.
The woman swallowed hard. "I… I'm not very hungry."
Naru didn't respond. She just kept staring.
Frieren glanced at her student, noting how Naru hadn't touched her own bowl either. It was obvious—Naru was waiting for the woman to eat first.
The silence stretched. The woman shifted in her chair, clearly rattled under that steady, doll-like gaze. Finally, with a shaky hand, she lifted the spoon and took a tentative bite.
She paused. Her eyebrows went up slightly. "…It's… not bad."
Naru blinked once, then picked up her own spoon and began eating in slow, measured bites.
Frieren, watching this little exchange, didn't say a word—but the corners of her mouth softened, just a little.
—oOVOo—
The morning sun filtered through the Turk Region's dense canopy, scattering patterns of gold on the mossy ground. The old woman, now less skittish than the night before, stood outside her hut as Frieren and Naru stepped out. She wrung her hands before speaking, her gaze darting between the stoic elf and the quiet demon girl. She looked like she was trying to work up the courage to say something.
"Frieren-san… could you help me clean something?"
Frieren tilted her head slightly, her long hair swaying with the movement. "Clean?"
"Yes… a special statue."
Frieren arched a brow. "A special statue?"
"Yes. It's been rusty for years now."
Frieren's lips thinned. "Special statues don't rust. That's metal. Do you mean weathered?"
The woman waved her hand, a little flustered. "Weathered, rusty—whatever you want to call it. It's covered in weeds and moss. No one's taken care of it for decades, and... well, it just looks sad."
Frieren gave a slow shrug. "Alright. Show me."
They followed her along a narrow, overgrown path that wound deeper into the forest. The air smelled of damp leaves, and patches of light broke through to illuminate ferns and wildflowers. The chirping of birds and the gentle rustle of the wind were the only sounds. Frieren's mind was distant, thinking of the journey ahead, while Naru walked in her usual quiet rhythm.
Eventually, they reached a small clearing, and there it stood—an old statue, half-swallowed by nature. Its stone surface was muted with grime and streaked green from moss. Thick weeds curled up its base, nearly hiding the figure's boots. It looked less like a monument and more like a forgotten tombstone.
Naru stopped, tilting her head. "Who's that, 'ttebayo?"
Frieren stepped closer, brushing aside a curtain of vines to reveal a faintly smiling face beneath the dirt. "It's Himmel." The name was spoken without any fanfare, but it held a weight that only Frieren could understand.
"Himmel-sama?" Naru asked, blinking her wide blue eyes, as if trying to reconcile the great hero from Heiter's stories with this forgotten, weed-choked statue.
"Mhm." Frieren gave the statue a casual glance, though her tone was faintly dry. "Looks like nobody takes care of it anymore. Serves him right for showing off all the time." She said the words easily, but a faint, almost invisible flicker of sadness passed through her eyes before she crouched down. She pulled out a rag from her pack and a short knife. With steady movements, she began wiping the grime away, scraping moss off with a short knife, and tugging weeds out from the cracks around the base. Her pale hair shifted with each motion, catching the light, and the sound of soft scrubbing filled the clearing.
Naru stood nearby, watching without a word, her staff resting loosely in her hands. The transformation was slow but noticeable—stone darkened by years of weather slowly returned to a pale, smooth surface. The statue's face began to emerge, the confident smile on Himmel's face looking almost warm under the sunlight. It was a face Frieren had seen countless times, a face she. The memories came unbidden—of a hero who was always in the spotlight, who always had a smile for everyone, even for her.
By the time Frieren stood back, brushing the last of the dust from her hands, Himmel's carved face looked alive again. His confident smile was a testament to the man he had been.
"Will it be covered in weeds again?" Naru asked, her voice blank but curious.
"Yes," Frieren said simply. "It will."
Naru tilted her head. "Can Frieren-sama not do something about it?"
Frieren paused mid-step, glancing at her student. "…Actually, I can."
Her expression softened just slightly as she looked at the statue, then at her student. This was it. The moment she had been thinking about for the past week. A meaningful spell. Something that would stay with Naru long after she was gone. "Naru… it's time I teach you your first spell."
Naru's eyes widened faintly. "…Really, Frieren-sama?" she asked, a rare hint of surprise in her voice.
"Mhm. Now observe closely. Watch how I channel my mana." Frieren's tone was serious, a teacher's tone. She stepped to the statue's base, planting her staff into the earth. Her hand tightened around it, her fingers shifting minutely as her focus deepened. She drew in a breath, her voice calm and deliberate. "Rajni."
At once, the ground shimmered. From the soil, soft blue dandelions began to sprout, dozens of them opening in the light. They spread in a gentle circle around the statue, swaying in the faint breeze, their color striking against the grey stone.
Naru's mouth dropped slightly—an unusual expression for her usually neutral face. Her eyes were round, reflecting the flowers' blue hue. Even the old woman looked taken aback, a faint gasp escaping her.
"These flowers," Frieren said, looking at Naru, "will keep weeds from growing here. They'll stay for a long time."
Naru gripped her staff tightly. "Can Naru try, 'ttebayo?" Her voice was filled with a childish excitement Frieren had never heard before.
Frieren nodded. "Go ahead. Remember—steady your mana, then shape it like I did."
Naru stepped forward, mimicking Frieren's stance almost exactly. She held her tall old staff with both hands, shoulders set, and moved it in a slow arc. "Rajni, 'ttebayo."
For a moment, nothing happened. Naru's eyes darted to Frieren, uncertainty creeping into her blank expression. Her shoulders slumped slightly—
—but then, with a faint shimmer, a small cluster of red dandelions pushed through the soil at her feet.
Naru froze, staring at them. Her eyes went wide again, a faint glimmer of pride in their depths. The red flowers seemed to glow in the sunlight, a testament to her first successful spell.
"Good job," Frieren said, reaching out to pat her head lightly. "It's small, but it's good."
Naru crouched down and carefully plucked the red blooms, holding them in her palms like something precious. She didn't look at Frieren or the old woman, her entire focus on the flowers. Without a word, she began weaving them together with the awkward determination of someone who had never done it before. The old woman and Frieren both watched in silence as Naru clumsily tied stems and twisted petals until they formed a small, slightly uneven flower crown.
Then, gripping her staff for balance, she bent her knees and leapt—light as a deer, she rose nearly six feet into the air. Her landing was soundless as she reached out and placed the crown gently on Himmel's stone head. The red flowers sat perfectly on the stone, a stark contrast to the pale grey.
Frieren's lips curved faintly. "…Much better."
The clearing felt warmer somehow, the blue flowers swaying at the statue's feet while the red crown sat proudly above his carved smile. It was a perfect testament to the two heroes who were now watching over the world.
By the time they returned to the hut, the sun was already dipping toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. The woman stood at her door, her hands clasped. Her fear was gone, replaced by a quiet sense of awe.
"See you, Frieren-san… Naru-san!" she called out.
Naru blinked, her face as neutral as ever—but she lifted one hand in a small wave, a gesture she had never made before.