The Mythical Era
Lands unexplored by humanity — because of magical beasts, evil gods, and especially demons who sought to wipe us out. No one would wish to be born into such a world of suffering and terror, yet that is exactly where I was born. My name is Train. I do not remember my previous life before being born here — no names, no family, no faces, no places. And yet, I remember various works of fiction from my former world that were popular. That is how I realized I am in the world of "Frieren: Beyond Journey's End."
But I ended up too far in the past. No — that's not quite right. Incredibly far. As far back as it is even possible to be. Will I live long enough to see the story that begins thousands of years from now? And do I even need to?
I grew up with my family, hiding wherever we could out of fear of being killed. In this era, people did not know magic. Or perhaps a very small number did — but it was nowhere near enough for defense, let alone for attack.
So that was how we lived — hiding and surviving on whatever we could find. As I gradually grew older, I noticed something unique within me — my heart. Hunting was the foundation of our survival, but whenever beasts died, I could see their souls. Almost all of them had one. Instinctively, I could absorb them into my heart — and I did.
Through them, I began to understand what they felt before death… Acceptance? Fear? It was impossible to fully describe.
During our wandering, we often came across caves or hastily built camps that had been destroyed. And each time, I absorbed more and more souls — their suffering, their emotions, their final words before being slaughtered by monsters.
I remembered a character from my previous life who died over and over again, enduring unimaginable suffering, yet continued to move forward and change his fate. I thought I could overcome this as well. I was wrong. It was not so simple. Every dream I had was not my own, but theirs — the people whose souls I had taken into myself.
I stopped sleeping. I could not fall asleep.
And yet, I remembered their words of gratitude. But for what? What had I done to help them? I could not save them. Or perhaps, within my heart, I had given them shelter — a hope for a new beginning?
So much time has passed, and I still have not taken a true step forward. Even after my parents' deaths, they remain with me as souls — watching me with gentle eyes. Can I endure this?
I looked at their graves, made hastily by my own hands. Nothing grand was needed — what matters are the emotions behind our actions. Two names were carved into the stones: William and Marianne.
As time passed, it became harder to recall anything about my former life. But the most important thing I came to understand was who I am.
A Guardian Knight. The very same one.
I laugh at the fact that we are called by the same name. Will I manage as he did?
I am not him. And he is not me.
I am no knight. I have never protected anyone — I always thought only of myself. Of how to survive in this world. And yet, step by step, moving forward, I began to feel my power. It flowed from my heart and from all the souls I had absorbed.
It did not erase them. Not at all.
I forged myself a sword — Antumbra. I created armor as dark as the night itself, completely concealing my face.
I continued my journey — from one caravan to another. The people I met did not look at me with the fear I expected, but with hope.
Could I give them that hope? Defeat the cursed gods, demons, and monsters so they could live in peace? Grant children smiles instead of fear — fear of whether they would survive until tomorrow?
Seeing so many souls and so much suffering, I made my decision: to protect everyone.
A noble act inspired by another "Train"? No. It was inspired by me. Because I am not that "Train."
I am myself.
And this is the point where my beginning truly starts.
The suffering I endure every day — the grief and sorrow of the souls within me, and their words of gratitude… I will save you. I promise.
Even if I must challenge the gods of this world.