Archive of Our Own

In a clearing strewn with blue flowers, a certain white-haired elf broke off her meditation. Opening her eyes, she turned her gaze to the sky.

A single thought arose in her mind, until then free of all thought::

“The Era Meteor Shower. Soon.”

Well, assuming she had not miscalculated. Only the Goddess knew how many years had passed since the elf had returned to her centuries-old refuge.

She rose, brushed the fallen leaves from her clothes, and left the clearing, heading for the place she could call home despite her seeming lack of attachment to it.

A small cabin built of pine logs, already thoroughly overgrown with moss.

Once inside, the elf went to the cabinet that held her “small”—or so she told herself—collection of grimoires. Every one of them had been read nearly to pieces.

She took one of the grimoires, opened it to the table of contents, and fell into thought.

“Magic that creates sweet ice... How many times has it been now? Not that it matters.”

Ever since the journey ended, all she had done was drag out an existence in this long-forgotten forest. Not for days—for years.

The changing of the seasons had become as ordinary to her as morning and evening were to a human. And yet...

Even by her own reckoning, it was a rather pathetic way to live.

Not that she was complaining.

After all, she had spent most of her life here. She had simply returned to where she had begun.

Nothing more.

Days passed, then weeks, then months. Autumn gave way to winter, winter to spring, and spring to summer.

To the elf, all of it seemed like fleeting moments.

Lately, she had often found herself wondering how her perception of time differed from that of humans. At first, the elf assumed it depended on how a single year compared with the life one had already lived: to her, a single year did not amount to even a thousandth of it, whereas for a human, things were different...

But that was not all there was to it. In her “youth,” time had not flowed quite so quickly for her either.

“What also matters is how long you think you have left to live.,” the elf concluded.

“I wonder how much longer I have?”

It was a perfectly natural question—sooner or later, the legions of the Demon King would set foot here as well.

“I’ll just run away... That’s all,” she muttered aloud.

Another question followed in her mind.

A far more troublesome one.

She chose to ignore it.

Instead, the elf began preparing for her small journey.

The elf walked along a narrow dirt road.

Completely alone.

Lost in memory, she recalled an offer once made by her old companions. An offer she had, if only indirectly, refused.

“Frieren, I know this is hardly the time for it, but... would you like to watch the next Era Meteor Shower together? With us?” asked the tall, green-haired priest.

“If, of course, I live to see that day,” he added at once. “But even without me, the two of you could still watch it together.”

“Already planning to hand your soul over to the Goddess, Heiter?” the long-bearded dwarf answered in the elf’s place.

“Unlike you elves and dwarves, humans are not allotted all that much time. Still, what do you say, Frieren?” the priest asked with a faint smile.

“I’ll think about it...” the elf replied shortly.

For several moments, she was silent.

“However, I have a request of my own.”

The elf looked at her companions.

“Do not call me by that name anymore.”

The lightness vanished from the conversation at once.

“The mage Frieren died in the Demon King’s castle.”

“Why?.. Though what difference does it make now? Heiter must already be dead. Eisen...”

She cut off her own thought.

“None of it matters anymore.”

The elf continued on her way.

Her path ran through endless golden fields, sown with wheat and cultivated by human hands.

A light breeze brushed pleasantly against her face.

She could hardly have wished for better weather for a journey.

From time to time, she passed villages along the road. Unremarkable villages—and yet...

As Frieren walked through their streets, she watched the lives of strangers. In the yards, children played at being heroes; adults went about their crafts; and everything around her carried on as it seemed it should.

The elf felt something akin to peace.

A fleeting, distant smile even touched her lips.

But after the smile came a thought.

“What a shame that sooner or later, all these houses will be destroyed, the fields trampled, and the people killed—or, worse, devoured...”

It was a vile thought.

And yet it merely reflected reality.

“And I won’t even be able to help you...”

She lowered her gaze.

“I’m sorry. Please, forgive me...”

Regret settled on her face—for all that had been, all that had become, and all that would be.

Having reached her destination, the elf settled in to wait.

Only then did she ask herself why she had come here at all.

For as long as she could remember, things like this had meant almost nothing to her. So what had made her leave the forest? What was she trying to prove to herself?

Searching for an answer, she sank into memory.

“The future is known to me.”

...

“However, soon, a young Hero will come to you.”

...

“And as unpleasant as it is to say... it is he who will save our world.”

...

“Together, you will defeat the King...”

“Liar,” the elf spat.

The memory dissolved. She raised her eyes to the sky.

It had begun.

Above the silent clearing, the first shooting star flared. Then another.

“The Era Meteor Shower... And here I thought I had finally lost count of time while sitting in my hole.”

Within moments, the entire firmament was covered in hundreds of silver streaks.

They cut soundlessly through the darkness, briefly illuminating the empty space beside Frieren with cold light, then fading somewhere beyond the horizon.

It was beautiful.

It could have been.

But not tonight.

And although almost all her attention was fixed on the sight unfolding before her, one question continued to echo at the edge of her consciousness:

“What would he have thought?”

Without her noticing, a single tear slipped down her cheek.

“Would he have liked it?..”

He had never been given the chance to see it.

She thought, too, of her old companions. Were Heiter and Eisen looking up at the same sky right now?

Were they thinking of her?

And so, among falling stars and unwelcome thoughts, the night passed.

The Era Meteor Shower came to an end. Not the first in her life, and likely far from the last.

And yet this one had been...

“Disgusting.”

The elf rose.

“To come here... No. Leaving the forest at all was a mistake.”

Filled with regret, sadness, and confusion, she started back.

On the way “home,” the elf was tormented by countless questions. Most of all, she was surprised by her own reaction to what she had seen: never before had anything filled her with such revulsion...

Her thoughts, unbidden, carried her fifty years into the past.

To the Northern Plateau.

To the night when they, driven onward by the King’s army, beheld the Era Meteor Shower.

“Wake up, you damned elf,” the green-haired priest hissed, shaking Frieren by the shoulder.

Reluctantly, she pried her eyes open and stared at him with a sleepy gaze.

“What’s gotten into you, Heiter? We need to be at full strength tomorrow...”

“I know, I know. But if I haven’t miscalculated, the Era Meteor Shower begins tonight.”

Seeing the mixture of confusion and irritation on the elf’s face, the priest hurried on:

“I understand our current situation hardly allows for something like this, but... I feel we ought to see it.”

Frieren said nothing.

“Come on, get up. Eisen must already be tired of waiting.”

Reluctantly climbing out of her sleeping bag, the elf followed him.

At the “viewing spot” they had chosen, Eisen was already sitting, slowly sharpening his axe.

“What are you staring at? I prefer not to waste time,” Eisen explained calmly, noticing their meaningful looks.

The elf and the priest merely sat down beside him in silence.

Eisen was the first to notice the change.

He stopped sharpening his axe and raised his head. One after another, stars fell from the firmament, tracing trails of light through the boundless emptiness of the night.

Their silver gleams played across tired faces and reflected in three pairs of eyes.

Tired not only from the long road.

The past few months had been hard...

Defeat, flight, the armies pursuing them, and the death of a companion could not fail to leave their mark.

And yet, before the sight unfolding above them, each of them allowed themselves to smile in awe.

Though a quiet sadness mingled with that awe.

No one spoke his name.

It hovered on their lips, but never broke free.

It was simply... simply too painful.

The silence that had settled over them was broken by the one from whom it was least expected.

“The Demon King... He spared us, didn’t he?”

Heiter and Eisen looked at her.

“He could have killed all of us right there. But instead... he killed only him.”

No one answered.

Frieren continued, without even noticing the tears that had appeared on her cheeks:

“Why him?..”

“Why him, and not me?..”

“It must be especially hard for you right now,” Heiter said quietly, placing his hand on her head.

Frieren did not pull away, as she usually did.

“Until the very end, you never understood what you would feel if you lost one of us...”

He fell silent for a moment.

“Even when you imagined our defeat, you never allowed yourself to think that you might survive... and mourn a companion.”

A weak smile appeared on the priest’s lips.

“And yet you really have changed a great deal, Frieren.”

Gradually, her breathing calmed. Heiter removed his hand, and she once again raised her eyes to the star-strewn sky.

“I’m sorry I ruined a moment like this...”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Eisen answered.

Frieren continued looking upward in silence for a while longer.

“And yet...”

A barely visible smile appeared on her face.

“It was beautiful...”

All the way back, only one question tormented her.

“So what was the difference?”