Beyond Aureole

The Holy City of Strahl. 91 years have passed since the death of Himmel the Hero.

From atop a balcony of Strahl's ancient cathedral, an elf looked out and thought on how the world had changed.

It had been a long time since she last visited the Holy City. Decades, at the very least. It was significantly larger; the buildings and the masses of people had long since spilled beyond the old city limits. The streets were more crowded, and oh so much noisier. All around, she saw horses and carriages, cyclists, walkers; a hundred thousand people going about their business in their dresses and waistcoats and hats.

In the distance, she heard a loud, shrill whistle. Outside of the city walls, a steam train was pulling in. These inventions had popped up recently enough. Magic could be relied on for a great many things, but for those without the same magical aptitude, technology and industry filled in the gaps.

She wondered what the people of this brave new world would think of her. An elf- a creature of a forgotten era. Men had grown in numbers since the time of the Demon King. So too had dwarfs. Elves, however, had been small in number even then, and were even less so now. Her kind were as diminished as the demons themselves. When traveling, the elf ducked crowds simply to avoid the gawking stares and incessant questions.

Still, she looked out on the city without apprehension. Change was inevitable. She wondered how her old master would think, seeing what her kind had achieved. Technology could be just as strange, mystifying and miraculous as magic.

But never quite as joyful, Frieren would say. The great mage Flamme had taught her well.

"Frieren-sama."

A strange yet oddly familiar voice echoed from behind. It was so different, yet the elf recognised it instantly.

A small smile appeared on her face. If I taught my own apprentice half as well as Flamme, then I can look back with pride.

The elf turned her back on the view of the Holy City and looked on who had spoken. A woman was standing there. The shape of her face was the same, yet deep lines were etched into her cheeks and forehead. She was wearing a simple pale blue dress with a shirtwaist blouse and walking skirt. Her posture was not as tall as it used to be, the back a little hunched, although she was still taller than Frieren.

Most surprising was the hair. Her hair had once been lush and purple, flowing down to her waist. It was still waist, but the purple had dulled to a silvery grey, with only specks of its old colour remaining.

But it was still her apprentice. Unmistakably so.

"Fern," she said, still smiling. "I-"

"You're late, Frieren-sama."

The woman's voice was thinner than the elf remembered it, almost a little hoarse, but the note of disapproval was identical. Her lips were pursed; not quite a pout, but the expression a grandmother would show to their grandchild.

The elf blinked. "I am?"

"Yes. I asked you to come to the Strahl cathedral after noon. You are almost an hour late."

She shrugged. "How was I to tell?"

"There is a clocktower right next to the cathedral."

"… I didn't notice," Frieren lied unconvincingly.

The old woman sighed tiredly, but her eyes were just as bright and vividly purple as Frieren remembered.

The elf walked up and patted Fern on the head. She still had to reach up to do so. "It's good to see you, Fern."

"And you, Frieren-sama."

"You don't have to call me that anymore. I haven't been your master for almost fifty years."

"You will always be my master, Frieren-sama," she said, ever the dutiful student.

The elf was very pleased; she tried and failed to hide it.

"What were you looking at?" the old woman asked, turning her eyes to the balcony. She walked over to the window, her stride much more laboured. Frieren followed her.

"Just the city. Strahl was a lot smaller the last time I came here."

"Hmm. I imagine it smells a lot worse, too," Fern said.

It was true. Cities always took some getting used to, especially when the elf spent much of her time in the wilderness. Recently, human cities had become a shock to the system. The air was filled with the smell of industry; in places, you could see smoke rising visibly into the blue sky.

"I grew up nearby, in Heiter's old cottage…" Fern's voice grew wistful and nostalgic as she gazed at the city. She pointed out a spot beyond the old city limits. "In the old days, the cottage would have been somewhere around there. Now, it's been absorbed into Strahl."

Frieren nodding, the memories returning. She had visited Strahl intermittently since their journey together. After they left Aureole, Fern's training had been officially completed. Her apprentice had settled with Stark in a wood cabin outside the city limits, not unlike the house where Frieren had met her as a young girl.

"Does it make you sad to see how it has changed?" Frieren asked.

"Not especially. Time will pass no matter how much we scream and shout. Travelling with you taught me that lesson many times over."

The elf nodded. It was true. She heard another train whistle in the distance, then turned to see Fern had leaned over. Her purple eyes were scanning over Frieren's features almost suspiciously. The elf could see her now wrinkled skin, and the ashen strands of her hair up close.

"Hmm… it really is disheartening…"

"What is?"

"How much I have aged, and how little you have."

Frieren blinked. "Of course I've aged, Fern. I've aged the same number of years as you."

"You know what I mean, Frieren-sama… I still remember our journey together. I remember so much… Was this how Heiter felt, when you returned one day to find him old and weak? I never imagined I would be standing here, feeling exactly the same way…"

The elf shook her head. "You aren't old and weak yet, Fern. You must have walked up the stairs of the cathedral, yes? How old are you now anyway?"

This time, Fern really did pout, and suddenly she seemed like a teenager once more. "It's rude to ask a lady her age."

Frieren didn't seem to care. "Hmm… It's been two decades or so since I last visited, and I seem to remember you were around fifty then-"

"I might be too old for sulking nowadays Frieren-sama, but if I wasn't, that's exactly what I'd be doing."

The elf smiled wryly. "You're never too old to sulk. You see? I still have some wisdom to impart."

Fern sighed, but there was a twinkle in her eyes. "It really has been awhile, hasn't it?"

"Perhaps a little too long."

"You could have come by whenever you wanted. You needn't wait for me to send an invitation."

"I lost track of time a little."

"Yes. Just like today, and every other day I've known you." She shook her head. "Shall we take a stroll, Frieren-sama? There's a tea shop nearby I'm rather fond of."

Fern didn't wait for Frieren to respond, knowing she would follow. The elf watched her old apprentice walk towards the steps. Her stride was slower now, true, but she was far from infirm. There was life in her yet.

A memory passed through the elf's mind. Suddenly, she was watching a young girl with long purple hair stride down a country lane. She was wearing a white sundress with a black overcoat. The sun beat down above, and pink flowers bloomed along the lane. Beside the girl was a boy with orange hair. They were holding hands…

She blinked. The memory faded, leaving Fern there alone.

"Frieren-sama?" The old woman turned her head, realising that Frieren wasn't following. "What is it?"

"Nothing." Frieren knew better than to linger on the past and the shadows who belonged there. "Let's go to this tea shop."

They stepped out of the cathedral and began the walk down the street, Fern leading the way. They made an odd couple- or perhaps it was just the elf who prompted passersby to point and stare. The cathedral was an ancient structure compared to the newer buildings which surrounded it. Frieren realised she was rather like the cathedral to them: a beautiful antique.

As they walked, they reminisced on the past. Episodes from their journey popped up; the Stille birds on their exam to become first class mages, the time Stark lost his clothes gambling, reuniting with Sein in the mountains. Fern was not the type to laugh heartily, but her smiles and occasional chuckles were full of warmth.

Eventually, they arrived at the tea-shop. It was a quiet place off the main-street which also sold pastries. Frieren offered to buy her one on instinct, but Fern declined.

"I'm not a girl anymore, Frieren-sama. I don't have the same appetite for snacks."

"But you still have a sweet tooth, yes? You can't have changed that much."

Fern bought a single pastry in the end along with her herbal tea, feigning reluctance. Frieren ordered the same brew as her old student, taking a seat in the corner. It was only half full, offering them plenty of privacy. The chairs and decorations were much more ornate than she was used to, with a chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

"So why did you invite me back?" Frieren asked, after a while.

Fern frowned. "The same reason I've always invited you back. Because I wanted to see you."

"Yes, but this time your letter was different. You told me to come back 'with all haste'." The elf said the word 'haste' as if it were new vocabulary.

"Which you didn't."

"I took a faster route than I could've done," Frieren protested. "Your letter made it seem urgent."

"Urgency is required with elves, otherwise they won't show up at all."

Frieren shrugged, but it didn't go unnoticed that Fern was avoiding the question. The elf didn't feel the need to press; she would say her ulterior motive later, if there was one. Her old apprentice sipped her tea slowly, and they continued to reminisce.

An hour passed; their tea went cold, so they ordered another pot. A peaceful silence fell between them, the kind only possible between two people who know each other inside out.

"Where have your travels taken you since we last met?" Fern asked, breaking the silence.

"Lots of places."

"Anything interesting in particular?"

"Hmm… well, I found lots of new grimoires. I even brought a few of them in my luggage to show you; just the ones I think you'll like, of course. I spent a decade or so sailing off the continent, seeing new islands, and another decade exploring the Southern Lands again. I caught the migration of the Rainbow Moths. Oh, and I finally got to see the Crystal Waterfall, which I missed last time…"

Frieren continued on; Fern listened with a smile on her face. She didn't get quite the same joy from pursuing new magic as the elf- their first journey had been enough- but for a moment, she could relive the joy of traveling vicariously.

"… the strangest was probably the Pool of Possibilities, which I heard about from a blind man on the island. It's this pool in the marshes which shows you images of worlds that might have been, if you'd made a different choice, or failed where you once succeeded. For me, it showed me a vision of what might've happened if we failed to defeat the Demon King. I was living as a hermit on a mountain, nothing like I am now..." The elf shuddered, but she was still enjoying the story. "Yes, lots of new things and places, too many to count."

"How wonderful," Fern said with real feeling, glancing at her tea.

"Have you really not left Strahl since last time, Fern?" The elf couldn't really imagine it.

"Oh, of course I've left occasionally, but only for a few days at a time. I try to keep busy. Great Mage Serie still doesn't like me very much, but I'm still one of the most powerful human mages, so now and then I do work for the Continental Magic Association. Just this year, I proctored the first class mage exams."

That didn't surprise Frieren. Once Serie saw potential, she found it hard to ignore. She would never take Fern on as an apprentice in her advanced age, but no one could deny the reach of Fern's aptitude and ability. She was being modest when she described herself as 'one of the most powerful human mages'. She could well be the best.

Another peaceful silence fell, but it seemed obvious to Frieren that Fern was withholding something. There was a question on the tip of her tongue which she wanted to ask.

The elf waited patiently until she did.

"… Frieren-sama… I wondered if you'd visited Aureole again, since last time?"

The elf felt a flicker of surprise. Aureole…?

"No, I haven't," she said calmly.

"I see."

More silence, but it wasn't quite as peaceful as before. Frieren reminded herself how humans worked; sometimes, it only seemed like they'd dropped a topic or weren't interested, when actually they hadn't. It was a subtle difference between her and their kind which she'd had to get used to.

"Why do you ask?"

"No reason in particular. I just imagine it would be quite tempting."

She blinked. "Tempting? How so?"

Fern smiled, as if she were a schoolteacher guiding a student to the answer. "Because you might want to see people again."

"To see the dead again, you mean?"

"Yes, Frieren-sama."

"Well, of course. It's natural to want to see the dead again, especially if you cared about them. I don't need to remind you why we traveled to Aureole, all those years ago. I wanted to understand humans better, and I wanted to talk to Himmel again."

"And?"

"And what?"

Fern sighed. A brief flicker of sadness appeared in those big purple eyes. "Wasn't it incredible, seeing everyone you'd lost? I remember the moment I saw Heiter again… It was one of the happiest moments of my whole life. To hear his voice, and see his shape, even if it was faded, like seeing him carved out in a cloud… It was so beautiful. I got to see Heiter, and Stark got to see his brother, and Sein got to see his old friend, and you got to see Himmel. To me, that was a miracle, Frieren-sama."

"Flamme told us Aureole was real. I never really doubted she was telling the truth."

"It doesn't matter. It was still a miracle."

Frieren didn't think 'miracle' was quite the right word. It was just another quirk of the universe, ever strange and magical, that you could visit the land where souls rest.

Nonetheless, she could identify with Fern's sentiment. Whenever she closed her eyes for a heartbeat too long, she found herself recalling their arrival in Aureole, beyond the Demon King's old castle. It was a place of the uncanny, full of fog; it really felt like they had walked into the sky, and their only companions were the clouds. Before them was a ruined temple on a hill, with a dead tree in the centre, the branches gnarled, the leaves long since withered into nothing.

At first, the four of them- Frieren, Stark, Fern and Sein- had been standing there alone. Nothing had happened. Then, Frieren had closed her eyes… wondering for a split second whether Flamme had lied to her…

"Of course I wasn't lying, Frieren. I am here. We are here."

She opened them, and Flamme had been standing in front of her. Her shape was green-tinted, but her youth was rejuvenated. All of a sudden, sunlight was burning through the fog. All of a sudden, the tree was alive again, the branches proud, the leaves dappled and golden.

Everyone was there. Everyone who had died, everyone they had missed. Frieren had heard the sound of crying, as one of Fern or Stark or Sein burst into tears, though she couldn't recall who.

All she could recall was staring straight forward at the man standing beside Flamme, the man she had been searching for, who she had watched lowered into the dirt, and wept over her failure to know better…

Her heart had filled with a kind of warmth, whole and encompassing, like sitting next to a campfire on a stormy night.

"Frieren."

"Himmel."

It had not been a miracle, but it had certainly felt like one. Perhaps that was what Fern meant.

"If you would like to call it a miracle, I won't make a fuss. It definitely felt nice."

"Yes, it did. That's why I was asking if you had gone back."

"No, I haven't yet. I will eventually, though."

"Yes… once every hundred years, wasn't it? That was how often you promised to return to Aureole."

"So you remembered?" Frieren said, surprised.

"I did."

"Why were you asking if I'd gone back, if you remembered my promise to Himmel?"

She sighed. "Because, Frieren-sama, I imagine that would be an easy promise to break. I wouldn't be surprised if you'd given in to the temptation and gone back."

Frieren considered what her apprentice was saying. Staying in Aureole didn't make sense, for reasons that she found obvious. Fern was an intelligent woman- she probably understood Frieren's reasons already. Nonetheless, the elf decided to say them aloud, sensing her apprentice needed to hear them.

"You called it a miracle that we could visit Aureole, Fern. I think, by the same measure, we could also call it a curse."

Fern said nothing. She didn't seem angry or surprised.

"It was wonderful to see everyone again. In fact, it was even better, because it should've been impossible. But for every miracle, there must be a curse. You see? Just as it was even more wonderful to be reunited, it was even more painful to say goodbye again."

"…"

"Life and death should be separate. That is how I see it, Fern. The dead may linger, but they can't come back, and they can't live on."

"… You're right, Frieren-sama."

She blinked.

"You'll have to forgive this silly old lady. I was projecting. You see, I've been very tempted to visit Aureole myself. The idea keeps popping back into my head. Why don't I just go back? Why don't I see them every year, every month, even every week? But I know that would just be more painful. There is only one way I can be truly reunited with the dead, and that's to die myself. Until then, I must content myself with life."

Frieren felt a twinge of sadness. Fern's eyes were fixed on the still, unmoving, lukewarm tea. Without thinking, the elf reached over the table and placed her hand on her old student's.

"There is so much to be content with in life. Like a grimoire, or a cup of tea."

Fern nodded very slowly. Her hand used to be smooth; now it was wrinkled, but somehow stronger. She smiled honestly. "Thank you… Besides, I don't need to go to Aureole to visit the dead. I can do it the old-fashioned way, here in Strahl."

The elf nodded. They hadn't brought up the unspoken topic yet, although their discussion of Aureole was probably a prelude.

"Shall we see Stark again, Frieren-sama?"

Stark had been buried in the same graveyard as a certain corrupt priest.

Like the rest of the land near Heiter's old cottage, the graveyard had been consumed by the new metropolitan area of Strahl. The buildings around it were now so large, one wouldn't be able to tell it was there unless they already knew the way. After leaving the tea shop, they took a leisurely stroll over to the graveyard, picking up a few important items on the way.

Fern obviously knew the way well. She led the elf over to Heiter's grave first. They had stood here together many times, the first of which was when the priest had just died and the old woman beside her was still a girl. They bought a bottle of liquor for Heiter's gravestone, a longstanding tradition, which Frieren duly poured over it.

They made their way to the second headstone, which had the name 'Stark' etched onto it. There was already a bunch of lotus flowers laid there. Nonetheless, Fern had bought a fresh set, and dutifully replaced them.

Fern knelt down beside the grave; the elf helped her to do so. She then prayed in silence for several minutes, her eyes closed. The elf offered a prayer of her own and thought on the time they had spent together.

"Why lotus flowers?" the elf question, once Fern had got back to her feet. She thought she knew the answer but asked the question anyway.

The old woman smiled and pulled up her sleeve; a familiar ornamental bracelet was there, with the design of a mirrored lotus. "I'm sure you remember, Frieren-sama. The lotus flower symbolises eternal love. Stark was my first love, and my only."

Frieren nodded, smiling. The pair had spent most of their journey dancing around each other, as human teenagers seemed wont to do, but it had been obvious they were in love- even to Frieren. The elf had attended their marriage at Strahl cathedral, and in the absence of Fern's parents or adopted father, given her away.

Frieren had taken comfort in returning to the married couple, after her years of travel- five years, a decade, however many. There was something orderly and correct about seeing Stark and Fern play their usual game of squabbling and pouting, no matter how old they got. She would return each time to see their two children, two boys named Heiter and Stoltz, growing up. Humans grew up fast in the eyes of humans- imagine how quickly for an elf.

His death had been quite sudden. Stark had never given up his sense of heroism, regularly taking on requests for aid. One such mission went wrong; he died saving a village from an ancient, powerful dragon. It happened two decades ago and was the last time Fern invited her back personally to Strahl.

It was also the last time Frieren had visited. She'd sensed Fern needed some time to deal with the loss. Or perhaps it was Fern showing consideration to Frieren, in letting her wander for however long she needed.

Fern covered the lotus bracelet and glanced at her master curiously. "You have something like this, don't you Frieren-sama?"

"You mean Himmel's ring?"

"Yes. I've always wanted to ask why you don't wear it."

The question took the elf by surprise, and she was momentarily lost for words.

"My apologies. I know for a long time, you didn't understand the meaning, but after you and Himmel spoke at Aureole… Well, I thought you might start wearing it. You never did. I've always wondered why."

"It's… Himmel did try to explain it. I think I understood. Mostly." Frieren found herself fiddling with her hair. "I do keep the ring with me, in my luggage. It's important to me, but I've never really considered wearing it every day, like you wear Stark's bracelet."

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to, Frieren-sama," Fern said gently.

She tilted her head. "It's alright. It's just that Himmel and I were never like you and Stark. It's not really the same, so it never occurred to me."

"I don't think it was that different," she murmured. "It hurt when you lost Himmel, did it not?"

"Yes."

"It also hurt when I lost Stark. How different could it be?"

"Does it…" The elf struggled with the words. Emotions had always been a struggle for her. "… Does it still hurt?"

"Of course. It used to be wound. Now, it's a scar. Sometimes, I can forget about it for an hour or two, but it's always there. That's what happens when you lose someone you love."

The dull, eternal ache of grief. It was a feeling Frieren recognised, no matter how differently the feeling translated for her kind.

"That's why I asked you about Aureole, Frieren-sama. I keep thinking I should go. He would be there, after all. There's no reason my husband won't be in Aureole, resting in peace with the other souls. Once, I even packed a bag, ready for travel. In the end, I just unpacked it again. By now, it would be silly."

"…"

Fern reached and took the elf's hand in her own. "I'm not like you, Frieren-sama. It won't be an eternity until I find my way to Aureole. It won't be too much longer now."

"That is probably true."

Fern laughed. "How very blunt. Do you think this old lady has overstayed her welcome?"

"Someone you care about can never really overstay their welcome."

Still holding the elf's hand, Fern looked her dead in the eye. Her expression was quite solemn. "Do you really think that?"

"Hmm… Well, they might annoy you a little, but not deep down."

The old woman opened her mouth and closed it several times. The solemn expression had changed to an expression Frieren couldn't identify. There was something she wanted to say.

"Is that why you invited me here, Fern?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you invite me because you thought this might be the last time?"

"No. I was telling the truth earlier. I just wanted to see you again. I don't intend to leave you so soon. But… May I speak with you honestly, Frieren-sama?"

"Go ahead."

"I think you should remember what you just said."

"That someone you care about can never overstay their welcome?"

"Yes."

"Why?" the elf questioned, a little suspicious.

"It's only… There is a selfish, impatient part of me that thinks it would be worth making that hasty trip to Aureole. It would be worth seeing him again right now, because I love him. If Stark were standing before me right now, I don't think I could ever begrudge myself, or begrudge him, because my heart would always win out. My heart would always have the final say."

Frieren's ears twitched, trying to discern what Fern was saying. Humans had a frustrating habit of talking in allusion- in other words, not really saying what they meant. It was odd, because Fern had always been rather blunt, which she found refreshing. Why would she obscure herself now? What did her words mean?

Fern only gripped the elf's hand tighter. "You need not think on it too hard. Just remember."

"Alright," she said, confused.

At last, Fern withdrew her hand and glanced towards the horizon. It was already late afternoon. The sun would be setting soon over the holy city of Strahl.

"Perhaps we should head back to my house? It's getting late. We can pay for a hansom cab."

"Let's do that."

The pair of them walked away from Stark's grave. As they did, Fern murmured, "Until next time…", as if he were really standing there.

The lotuses lay there untouched, a monument to eternal love.

It didn't take long for them to find a cab. The horse whined at the elf and the cab driver gawked as Fern handed over the money, but he was too polite to comment outright. They hopped into the back after giving the driver directions and set off down the cobbled street.

"I haven't ridden one of these in ages," Frieren commented absently.

"Indeed."

"There's still no way of travel that beats walking. I don't want to get there quickly. I want to take my sweet time."

Fern shook her head fondly. "That's easy to say when you have the time, Frieren-sama."

The rattle of the cab wheels on the cobblestones was loud, but the ride was still rather therapeutic. Frieren found herself leaning against the window like a young girl, staring out at the city and the pedestrians. The sunset was a spectacular purple and orange overhead; she was once again reminded of her companion and husband, walking down that country lane, however many years ago. The colours of their hair were painted onto the sky.

The elf might have fallen asleep if not for the twinge of apprehension.

She began feeling it back in the graveyard, as they discussed Aureole. She had assumed Fern had an ulterior motive for inviting her back, beyond the mere desire for her company. Now, she was certain, though she had no idea what it could be.

They stayed quiet as the carriage took them out of the city limits, down a familiar dirt road, back towards Fern and Stark's country lodge. A line of pine trees on either side guided them along. She had visited here plenty of times before, and so knew the way well. A couple of times she glanced at Fern, about to bring it up, but the old woman seemed unconcerned.

Eventually, the cab pulled up to a steel gate. The house was surrounded by a wall of shrubbery; in the past, it had been perfectly kept, but now it seemed rather unkept. The gate had signs of rust, though it still looked magnificent. They stepped out of the cab and bid the rider goodbye.

Fern clapped her hands and the steel gate opened on its own, revealing the wooden lodge. It looked as rustic and welcoming as ever; the vision of a home from a different era.

They were halfway towards the front door when Frieren decided to broach the topic. She stopped walking.

"Fern."

"Yes, Frieren-sama?"

"I can't help but think you've not been entirely honest with me."

Fern was facing the other way, looking at the front door. She didn't react. Frieren wasn't sure if she'd heard, so she carried on.

"I'm sure you really did want to see me, but I think-"

"I forgot to mention," Fern interrupted, quite abruptly. "My new apprentice is staying with us tonight."

Frieren blinked. "What?"

The old woman turned around, her smile delicate. "After Stark died, I ended up taking on a new apprentice. They showed an awful lot of potential, and I'm really quite proud of their development. They might be the finest apprentice I've ever had. We're quite close, so I thought it might be nice if you two met."

Still reeling from the discovery that Fern had taken on an apprentice, the elf raised an eyebrow. "And you didn't think to mention they would be here?"

"My apologies. It just slipped my mind."

"Why would you tell such an obvious fib? Not even I'm that bad at lying."

Fern continued to smile. "Don't worry about it. I just got caught up in all our reminiscing, and didn't think to bring it up. It won't be an issue. She's a lovely, charming girl. I think you'll like her."

"… I'm surprised you took on a new apprentice this late."

"Like I said, they showed an awful lot of potential."

"What's her name?"

"Schyler."

"Schyler, hmm…" She played with the name on her tongue. It wasn't one Frieren had heard before.

"They'll be inside now, waiting for us. I did tell her you might be coming back. It's only so often a mage gets to meet someone of your legendary status, Frieren-sama."

The elf's ears flattened. "You're giving me compliments. I don't like it."

Fern shook her head. "Don't overthink it."

And with that, she continued the walk up to the front door. Frieren followed her behind, but slower, careful. The elf's jade eyes flickered to the windows of the lodge, hoping to catch a glimpse of this mysterious apprentice. All the blinds were drawn. Fern had taken on several apprentices before, some of which she had never even met. This one, presumably, was different.

The old woman removed a key from her pocket and started inserting it. "I mean it when I say Schyler has potential. She's actually already a first class mage."

"Really?"

"Yes. I mentioned that I proctored a first class mage exam recently. That happened to be hers. She passed Serie's examination within a minute."

"I look forward to meeting her, I suppose."

"Yes…"

Fern opened the door, but stopped on the threshold. Frieren looked at her unmoving shape, wondering what was wrong.

Suddenly, she spun around, and looked the elf dead in the eye. Her expression was serious.

"Frieren-sama… What you're about to see might shock you a little."

"Shock me?"

"Yes. All I ask is that you're patient, and you don't jump to conclusions. Schyler might not be what you expect, but she's just a normal girl at heart."

"Is she really that different?"

"Not different, per say… It's more that she's the same."

"What are you talking about?"

"Just promise me, Frieren-sama. Promise me you'll be patient."

"Alright, I promise," the elf grumbled. "Really… The demons of this world call me Frieren the Funeral. I doubt your apprentice could spook me."

Fern didn't answer. She just turned and walked slowly into the cabin. Frieren followed her inside. It was lit warmly, with magical torchlight that wouldn't catch on the wooden walls. There was a stairway which led upstairs, and a door to the right which led into the living room.

The old woman hung up her overcoat and headed into the living room. Frieren followed her in cautiously. There was no one there, but the elf could see a shadow protruding from behind the wall of the cooking area. It was an obviously feminine shape, which seemed to have long hair. They were humming a melody which Frieren thought she recognised, though she couldn't place it… The voice was a sweet and airy alto…

Frieren stood motionless, staring at the shadow, and the voice which belonged to it. Why did she feel so strange?

"Schyler?" Fern called out, her voice a little uneven. "We're here. Come out and say hello to my master."

"Oh, you're back? Sorry, I didn't hear you come in."

The shadow began to move, and suddenly, a figure entered the living room. The shadow, the sweet airy voice, now had a face.

A face which took her back to Aureole… to the moment when she closed her eyes, heard Flamme's voice, and opened them to see…

"Frieren, isn't it? I've heard so much about you. The legendary mage who defeated the Demon King. A reputation doesn't get much bigger than that."

Frieren couldn't think. She could only stare at the woman standing before her, whose smile was wide, almost teasing. She could feel Fern's purple eyes on her, and they were grave, but the elf barely registered it. Her mouth had opened, but there were no words on her tongue.

The woman standing before her, Fern's new apprentice, was… she looked exactly like-

The figure was walking over, the smile on her face so shockingly familiar it took Frieren's breath away. She felt the urge to back away but couldn't. The figure, 'Schyler', didn't seem fazed. She didn't seem to notice the elf's shock. She kept walking until she was standing right in front of her, making it impossible for Frieren to look away, the smile almost defiant.

"I didn't hear about you being pretty though. That, I wasn't prepared for."

The figure had a sharp face. Her eyes were aquamarine, but her long, waist length hair was as blue as the sky on a cloudless day. It was as blue as the type of flowers which grew in Himmel's hometown… The blue moon weed flowers he had wanted to show her one day. She was wearing an evening dress, informal but stylish, the exact same colour as her hair.

"Why, you're almost as gorgeous as I am," the woman said, her voice teasing.

"…" Frieren's throat was dry. She couldn't squeeze out the question on her lips:

"Himmel? Is that you?"

The woman dropped into a curtsy. "My name is Schyler. I hope you treat me well."

AN: I'd wanted to riff on the 'reincarnated Himmel' concept for awhile, but could never quite find the premise. For some reason, genderbent Himmel turned out to be the almost-crack brainwave that pushed this fic over the line. I imagined this funnier in my head, but the first chap ended up being quite melancholic and more serious. I do like this 'beyond the beyond the journey's end' idea, so we'll see how it develops.

Yes, there is a shameless plug of my other Frieren fic in here, A Waiting Game. I've had a creative drought for that story, but do hope I'll be able to pick it up again some day. In the mean time, hope you enjoyed this.

-GOF