Chapter Text
Only Eternity
Ende. The Demon King's castle.
The fizz and crackle of magic filled the air. Frieren had cast a locking spell: the door's outline took on a white glow. She was muttering under her breath. She'd locked them in the room because they had nowhere else to run, and was putting up all the defensive spells she could think of.
They had fled there to escape their enemy. Not just any enemy. The enemy. The Demon King.
The Hero Party had reached his castle in Ende, clearing the hoards of defenders around the battlements, storming into the Great Hall. It had been a long, winding journey, but when that castle came into view, they knew the journey would be coming to an end. All that remained to be determined was the nature of that ending.
They'd engaged the Demon King in single combat. There had been no conversation, no prevarication. It knew why they were here and didn't hesitate. Neither did they.
Himmel and Frieren had been separated from Heiter and Eisen. Together, him and the elf retreated from the pursuing demon; that is, until it cornered them, here in this room.
Himmel was bleeding. Wounds were no stranger to him. He'd bled on this journey more times than he could remember, but none of those cuts felt as deep. The Demon King's blade had caught his side. The red liquid gushed out. He was light-headed and pale.
"Don't worry, Himmel," Frieren muttered, still casting her defensive spells. "The door will hold for a bit."
The hero was gasping for air, sucking it in like every breath would be his last. "When you say a bit…?"
"It hasn't depleted its mana yet, but neither have I."
"Which means?"
She shrugged, concentrating hard. "Five minutes, maybe."
Five minutes, hmm?
Another wave of light-headedness. He stumbled back, searching for something to support him, keep him upright. His hand found its way to a bedpost, of all things. Himmel looked around in surprise. He hadn't processed it in the panic, but the room they'd retreated to was a bedroom. A kingsized bed lay in the centre. A glass window was closed, peering out over the frozen wasteland of Ende.
Why would a demon need a bedroom? Why would a Demon King need a castle, for that matter? Like everything else, it was only the imitation of humanity. The demon's monarch was interested in humans, at least superficially. It envisioned a world of co-operation. Perhaps these imitations were part of its research, its curiosity.
Regardless, Himmel was happy for a place to sit. He all but fell down onto the duvet, wincing at the pain. His hand still covered the wound, applying pressure. The skin was stained a deep, murderous red.
"Let me help you." Frieren's voice was determined. She must have finished her spells. The elf strode over and knelt in front of him.
Himmel smirked. "I don't need help to bleed. I think you'll find I'm doing an excellent job."
Her ears flattened. "Your unbearable personality is intact, then."
"Of course. It's only bodily fluids I'm losing."
"Let me see."
Her voice was blank and commanding. He winced once more as her hand rested on his own, gently lifting it to see the extent of the damage. The pain was excruciating. Someone less used to the pains of battle might have fainted.
"B-bad, huh?"
"Fatal, if healing magic didn't exist," she murmured. "We need Heiter. I only know basic healing magic."
Frieren didn't hesitate to cast the spells. She brought her hands together. A column of golden light extended from her fingertips to the wound. It was the magic of the Goddess- a simple spell the priest had taught her on the course of their journey.
The pain's intensity eased off, but only a little. The wound didn't close; it only begun to narrow. He was still losing blood in the meantime.
Himmel chuckled. "I never said it would be easy, defeating the Demon King."
As if on cue, they heard something slam against the door. A weapon. The walls of the bedroom shook. Their enemy was breaking in. Frieren didn't even glance back. She persisted with the spell, her eyes narrowed in concentration.
Heiter and Eisen were nowhere to be found. Frieren's mana was already depleted, and she couldn't defeat the Demon King on their own. Himmel was wounded and could barely stand.
They had five minutes left. Less, now. Maybe four.
Four minutes until the end.
Himmel's sense of light-headedness persisted, but there was no blurriness to his vision. There was no haze clouding his mind. Rather, his thoughts felt clear and precise. The adrenaline of fleeing was fading, sapped by his wound.
Amidst all the dread, the promise of death, Himmel the Hero felt calm.
All he could do was stare at Frieren.
There she was. The mage of his party. A dear, dear friend. Her eyebrows were still furrowed, her expression still. She might've looked emotionless to someone less acquainted, but Himmel knew her well. There was fear on her soft features, but amidst that, the bravery and poise he'd come to admire.
She was wearing the same clothes she always wore, white with black stripes across the chest and a gold trim. Her hair was still tied back. Ruffled, but still white, still pure, its gossamer-like pristine quality still intact. Her eyes were still green, like the grass along a thousand roads they'd walked to get here.
The one who taught him to love magic. The one who taught him so much.
In spite of everything, in spite of the danger, in spite of the pain, all he could think about was her.
"Frieren…" he whispered, and her name sounded like a prayer.
The elf was busy with the healing spell. She wasn't looking at him. She barely heard. "Shhh."
Himmel laughed again. It was so like her.
He couldn't help it. He reached out and took her hand. It didn't interrupt the spell, but the mage looked up in surprise. Their eyes met.
Himmel couldn't look away. It was ridiculous, absurd, nonsensical, but suddenly, all doubt disappeared. There was only certainty. He felt the culmination of every step they took to reach this moment, this castle, this scene.
He felt happy.
Frieren didn't look away. Her lips were pursed, but she kept casting the spell and didn't pull away. There was a question in her eyes, but no judgement, no anger.
"Here we are, Frieren."
"Yes. Here we are."
Another banging on the door, louder this time. The walls shook again.
How many minutes left? Three?
They had no time. The sands were falling down the hourglass, one by one by one. But it didn't matter. He didn't care. Himmel couldn't believe it, but he was thrilled. He was holding Frieren's hand. If this was the end of their journey, then so be it.
"Did you-" he coughed, feeling a sudden wave of pain.
Frieren moved to pull her hand away, to refocus on the spell, but Himmel's grip remained firm.
He didn't want to let go.
"Don't speak if it's painful," she rasped. "You still need Heiter-"
"Have you enjoyed our time together?"
The elf went quiet for a moment.
"Why are you asking?"
"Because I want to know."
Her ears twitched. "There's no point in answering that."
"Why not?"
"Because our time together isn't over. My opinion can still change."
"True."
Another furious, insistent bang on the door. Louder. It might have been their death knell.
He didn't care.
"Even so, I'd like to know your answer."
"Why?"
"Again, I just want to know."
"If I answer, will you let me concentrate?"
He nodded weakly.
"Alright. My answer is yes."
"Good. I'm glad to hear that, Frieren."
She tried to pull her hand away, but still, he wouldn't let go. She blinked but didn't look away.
"Would you mind if I told you something? Something I'll probably regret?"
"Depends what it is."
"Hmm." He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened again, and the smile on his face was as beautiful and brilliant as any he'd ever given. "I'm so glad I met you, Frieren. You gave my life magic."
The elf's head tilted to the side. "Is this about me showing you a field of flowers, when you were a boy? I just wanted to cheer you up. You were crying, and I wanted you to be happy instead."
"I am happy. I'm so, so happy."
"I don't understand."
"I know you don't. That's why I never said a word. But now-" He glanced at the door. "What's there to worry about? What's there to regret? It's only me and you. It's only us, and the end."
"It's not the end," she objected, and her voice was strong. "We'll get you to Heiter, somehow. Eisen will rescue us."
"You don't need to persuade me of that, Frieren. I have faith Eisen will save us. I have faith Heiter will heal this wound. I have faith we will still defeat the Demon King. I believe in all of us. I have the upmost confidence we will prevail. But just for a moment, I'd like to believe otherwise."
To that, her only response was stunned silence.
"But you're Himmel," she objected.
His loudest laugh yet echoed out. "Am I really? Thank you for the reassurance!"
She shook her head. "Why would you believe otherwise? That doesn't make sense. That's not what Himmel the Hero would do."
A rueful, bittersweet grin. "Can't I not be Himmel the Hero, just this one time? Just for you, Frieren."
"…"
"Otherwise, I'll never get a chance to say it."
Another bang.
How much time remained? A minute, maybe? Thirty seconds?
Less?
The certainty only grew. The clarity was impossible to ignore.
Himmel had never been so sure of anything in his life.
"I love you."
Of course, it wasn't the end.
Sunlight bore down from above. He was sitting in a field of flowers- a very familiar field of flowers. Behind him lay a ruined castle. The first time he and the Hero Party laid eyes on the structure, it had been a pitiable, melancholic sight. Perhaps on a dark day, it would have been menacing.
But then, a magic spell had been cast, and the castle was ordained with life all around.
Himmel smiled at the memory. This was what Frieren did. She made things beautiful.
Months had passed since the Hero Party defeated the Demon King- since they completed their journey. That wasn't the case, though. They still had to travel back whence they came. There and back again, as is always the way.
The party hadn't lingered long after the Demon King's death, and the scattering of his demon hordes. They'd collected all the loot they needed or felt would be responsible to collect, and set off back to the capital. They had to report the news of their victory back to the king- though word, by now, had already spread far and wide. Everyone they met treated them with smiles, cheers, gazes of misty-eyed amazement.
The four of them were in high spirits, and for good reason. Their hard work had paid dividends. The land was free of its most feared and dangerous threat. The forces of their enemy were scattered and weak. Each evening, they drank by the campfire, told stories, reminisced, wondered on the future. It was a storybook ending to a storybook journey.
There was very little to complain about.
Himmel heard laughter and glanced over his shoulder. Heiter and Eisen were sharing a joke a little distance away. This was the second time they'd seen this ruined castle, and the flowers Frieren had created last time were taller now. He wondered if they would ever stop growing. Perhaps it was some quirk of her magic.
The flower's height was a measure of the time since they were last here- of the journey beginning and ending.
Last time, he had impetuously made a crown of flowers and placed it on Frieren's head. She'd looked charming, sat where he was now sat, looking out over her creations in bloom.
Himmel smirked. Maybe he'd do the same again. He glanced over his shoulder, searching for Frieren, already thinking of making another crown-
Something landed on his head. He almost jumped at the sensation and turned around where he sat.
It was who he'd been looking for. Frieren was looking down at him with her typical blank, half smile.
The hero touched the object she'd dropped on his head, already sensing what it was. A crown of flowers, like the one he'd dropped on hers.
He chuckled. "What's this, Frieren?"
"Revenge."
"I didn't realise revenge was best served with flowers."
"That's the worst kind."
Frieren plonked herself down next to him. It was very close to where they'd sat last time. Himmel remembered well what they'd talked about- he remembered most of his conversations with Frieren. He'd promised to show her the blue moon weed flowers that used to grow in his hometown.
The elf must have been thinking of that too, because she soon brought it up. "Where actually is your hometown, Himmel?"
"It's in the Central Lands."
"Then I suppose we could stop by on the way back to the capital."
Himmel shook his head. "My town's much further to the west. Quite out the way."
"Well, that's never stopped us before."
A chuckle. "I suppose so." But then he went quiet.
Frieren glanced at him. "It was you who suggested seeing the blue moon weed flowers. Don't you want to anymore?"
"Of course I do. I just know we might not get the chance."
"Why not?"
Himmel didn't reply. He kept the smile on his face calm and still.
The truth was, the idea of showing Frieren the blue moon weed flowers, and his hometown, had been more of a wish than a tangible promise. A dream. It was something he'd imagined doing if…
The hero shook his head, the movement small and almost imperceptible. It didn't matter. It was just an if.
He knew for a fact, now more than ever, that it was just an if.
"I doubt we'll have time in the end," he said. "Once we've stopped off at the capital, I mean. I imagine we'll have our own little quests in mind."
Frieren shrugged. "I did want to explore the Southern Lands. I'll probably go there for a period, after we're finished."
"You will indulge me by coming to Felsein though, won't you?"
She blinked. "Why do we have to go to Felsein again?"
Himmel flicked his hair dramatically. "Ever since I heard of the existence of this master sculptor, I knew we had to get a final piece of the Hero Party made. Think of it as a final tribute to my enduring beauty-"
"The Southern Lands it is, then," Frieren rasped.
"Hey! It wouldn't just be a tribute to mine."
"None of you are that beautiful."
I wasn't talking about Heiter or Eisen. But of course, he didn't say that.
They let a comfortable silence settle, with only the chirping laughter of their companions in the distance to break it. Himmel basked in the feeling of the sun on his face, the flowers all around, the days he had left with the Hero Party.
And then, Frieren asked him a question.
The one question he didn't want her to ask.
"Himmel, can I ask you something?"
"Hmm?" He nodded, absent-minded.
"It's about what you told me, back at the castle."
There was no particular emotion in her voice. No shock. No worry. No anxiety. Just slight puzzlement. It would have seemed like an offhand comment to someone who didn't know what they were talking about. Indeed, to Frieren that was probably all it was.
But to Himmel, it was a nightmare.
It took all of his composure to keep his face level.
"I'm sure I told you lots of things at the Demon King's castle, Frieren," he said lightly, his heart full of lead.
"I'm talking about when it was just the two of us, before Eisen and Heiter saved our skin. The Demon King had us cornered, and you told me something."
Himmel said nothing.
Frieren's voice was steady. She was doing what she always did. When the elf didn't understand something about magic, she looked up the answer in a grimoire. When she didn't understand something about human beings, she asked another human being about it, usually the person who was the source of her confusion. She honestly didn't know what he meant by those words, so it only made sense to ask.
They hadn't spoken about it since. After those three words passed Himmel's lips, she hadn't had time to reply. Eisen and Heiter arrived in the nick of time. Eisen distracted the Demon King long enough for the priest to heal Himmel's wounds, permitting him to rejoin the fray. The days after had been a whirlwind of celebration and other, far more important matters. Those three words which she didn't understand were understandably swept aside.
And Himmel hadn't brought it up. He hadn't told Heiter or Eisen about it. To all intents and purposes, the words had never been spoken.
Frieren's curiosity built up in the months of silence that followed. Until now, when she finally found a private moment to ask.
"Remember? You said that you loved me. I wanted to know what you meant."
Himmel let out a long breath.
Then he laughed loudly.
"Oh, don't hold me responsible for things I said when delirious. If you'll recall, Frieren, I was losing rather a lot of blood." A smile. "It would be like holding Heiter responsible for things he said when drunk."
Frieren glanced at him, then glanced away again. A part of her could accept what he'd said- another part thought it nothing more than a diversion. At the time, his comment, whatever it really meant, hadn't felt like a throwaway.
Rather, it had felt like something he'd wanted to say for a long time.
"Can't I not be Himmel the Hero, just this one time? Just for you, Frieren."
It wasn't that Frieren didn't know what love was. She did. In essence. Somewhat. She knew about it in the same way that a beginner mage knew the vague concepts of advanced magic. So, she also knew there were a lot of nuances to a human's feelings.
"Are you sure? I've thought on and off about what you said, and decided it might be important."
"…"
She racked her brain. "Did you mean it?"
"…"
"Himmel? Can't you hear me?"
"I heard you."
"Hmm."
He let out a quiet, careful sigh. "We don't have to talk about it. It wasn't something I should have said aloud. That was unfair of me. I didn't have any right. You're not going to understand until-" He trailed off, because it was too painful.
"But I think I do understand."
"Really?"
"Yes. Humans like to say that when they care about someone, don't they? So all it means is that you care about me. I already knew that."
"Of course I care about you, Frieren." His voice was thick.
"I don't see why it would be unfair to say it, then. You don't need to worry. I understand."
Himmel turned to look at her, and their eyes met. The moment from the Demon King's castle was renewed again- thethey two of them looking deep into each other's eyes- but this time, there was no sense of joyous culmination, of everything falling into place. For Himmel, there was only regret. Only the sour taste of words he'd sworn never to say.
There was nothing to complain about. Nothing but his own actions.
It was his fault for being selfish. For him, it was one moment of weakness. For her, it was an eternity trying to figure out what he meant.
An eternity where he couldn't follow.
He couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand that this would be her memory of him. Why couldn't he have been Himmel the Hero, right till the end? How could he have let this happen?
"Himmel…" Her voice was still questioning, but Frieren wasn't looking away.
He bit his lip. He wanted her. He wanted her so much. His feelings weren't fair. She couldn't return them. She wasn't ready- but it didn't change how he wanted her. She wasn't just a friend. She wasn't just Frieren. He couldn't help it. To him, she was everything-
Her eyes widened without knowing it. She sensed it, without truly comprehending. The hint of the fire in his eyes, the feeling of a human.
But there was no fire in hers.
He may as well have been looking at a statue.
Himmel forced the smile back onto his face, then forced himself back into his feet. The crown of flowers suddenly felt heavy on his head.
"Let's not talk about this, Frieren." He looked at the field instead, away from her. "And if you don't mind, could you keep this a secret between us? Heiter and Eisen would never let me hear the end of it."
She shrugged. "Alright. It's our secret."
"Yes. Our secret." The hero couldn't quite keep the pain out of his voice.
Our secret, but my mistake.
Felsein, the Northern Lands. A few months after the fall of the Demon King.
"We're heading back to the inn, Himmel." Heiter's tired drawl called back to him from the threshold of the sculptor's workshop. "After today, I need about a dozen pints."
Himmel momentarily broke his pose of intense drama. He had cycled through various such poses throughout the day- a heroic stance, an exuberant flick of the hair- all in search of one that truly captured his aesthetic perfection. Not that it could ever be captured in full, but if the greatest sculptor in the world couldn't get it, then no one would.
The sculptor in question's family name was Meibel. He was an older man, barely taller than Eisen and with a long, flowing white beard. His attention was currently fixated on the stone figure which bore only half of his visage. A chisel worked away at the stone. The sculptor was a polite man, with a flowing, elegant speech.
"Might I have permission to break my pose, good sir?" Himmel asked with a flourish.
The bare hint of amusement appeared on the old sculptor's face, but he nodded without a word. Himmel leapt off to talk to Heiter. Eisen had already walked away. Frieren was so distracted by her grimoire, reading in a seat by the entrance, that she hadn't noticed.
"Won't you stay longer? You know this is one of our last chances to-"
"Himmel, we've already been here close to a month. The only reason it's taking this long is because you keep changing your pose."
"It's a very serious decision!" the hero defended himself. "I don't know why you're not spending as much time as I am."
He raised an eyebrow. "I suppose I'm not as beautiful."
"Well, there's no need to beat yourself up…"
Heiter rolled his eyes but chuckled all the same. "And now I really do need a drink."
The priest turned to go, but Himmel caught his sleeve. "It would mean something to me if you took this seriously."
"You're welcome to tell me why."
The hero's lip caught.
Yet again, he couldn't. Heiter had asked his best friend several times since the Demon King's defeat what was ailing him. It had taken him longer than it should've done to realise something was wrong, but he'd grown up with Himmel. Soon enough, the priest clocked that his smile wasn't quite as wide; that it was tempered somehow, with some knowledge that, for whatever reason, couldn't be confided.
But Heiter had his suspicions. There was usually one source for all his friend's consternation. His brown eyes momentarily flickered from Frieren, who still had not looked up from her grimoire, then back to his friend.
Himmel noticed but didn't say anything. He just smiled. "I'm sure I will, at some point."
"Then-"
"But right now, I'll let you get that drink."
The priest smiled back. Sorry Eisen, he thought. He didn't tell me today either.
Heiter closed the door to the workshop behind him, leaving Himmel with Frieren and the sculptor as their only observer. He nodded in apology at the man and then took the vacant seat next to his friend.
She didn't look up from the grimoire, lost in her own little world of magic and enchantment. A soft, fond expression washed over his face; Himmel put his hand between her eyes and the pages, waving at her.
Frieren blinked but didn't look up. "Is the sculpture done?"
"Not quite, but Heiter and Eisen have left for the day."
"They have?" She lifted her head and saw it was true. "Does that mean I can go too?"
He laughed. "Meibel, you have a good sketch of Frieren's pose, don't you?"
The old sculptor nodded. "Her pose hasn't changed since the day of your commission, sir."
"Unlike mine."
"I wouldn't dare comment," he rasped, in his silvery voice.
"Alright, I'll head back to the inn." Frieren got to her feet, still clutching the grimoire.
"Thank you for coming with us to Felsein, Frieren," he said, and a glimmer of his real gratitude and regret seeped in. "This statue of us wouldn't be complete without you."
"You asked me too. It's only been a month. The Southern Lands can wait."
"Only a month, hmm." He shook his head. "Things are very different for you."
"A little." Frieren headed to the workshop door, as Heiter and Eisen had before, and stopped at the threshold as the former had. "Are you having this statue made for the same reason as the others?"
"Oh yes. Future generations need to know how stunningly gorgeous I am. I would never deprive them of such crucial knowledge."
"Yes, but there was another reason you told us once. You said it was because you didn't want me to be alone in the future."
Himmel remembered saying so well. Unlike his words at the Demon King's castle, they were not words he regretted. His determination that there be statues of them derived from a conversation he'd had with Frieren, earlier in their journey. She'd spoken of her mistress, the great mage Flamme, and how she may as well have been a fairytale. The only legacy she left behind was her magic. The person, as she was, only survived in Frieren's memories.
Himmel had thought that was sad. He didn't want the Hero Party to be a fairytale that people barely remembered. He didn't want their time together to be a myth.
He wanted to share in just a moment of the eternity he was consigning her too.
"That's right," he admitted. "We're not fairytales, Frieren. These statues will be a reminder of us."
She seemed to consider his words very carefully. "Then why does this one have to be so perfect? What makes this so worth the time?"
"Meibel here is the best sculptor in the land. Think of this as a gift. A gift from the present to the future."
Frieren's jade green eyes flickered over to the sculptor's work. Meibel had taken sketches of herself, Heiter and Eisen, but had made the mistake of starting work on Himmel first. The hero was perpetually unsatisfied with his progress, changing the prose, asking for subtle shifts in expression and emotion, seeking some perfection that none, not her, not even the greatest sculptor in the world, could see. A perfection that was known only to him.
She could see the stone visage's face. It was only half complete, even as Meibel's chisel worked away, respecting their conversation in silence.
It didn't look much like Himmel, in its current state.
"Even if there were statues of Flamme all around, I don't think it would change how I remembered her," Frieren murmured. "I'd remember her as she was, not as a sculptor imagined her to be."
She opened the door to step out into the cold. It had turned from fall to winter since they arrived in the hunting town of Felsein; it hadn't snowed yet, but she could sense snow rumbling in the skies above. Cold air greeted her, a far-cry from the warm air in the workshop, and Himmel's voice echoed out, calling her back.
It sounded a little desperate.
"Then you'll remember me the same way, no matter what I do?"
The elf couldn't see Himmel from where he sat, so she didn't realise the effect her response might have. She didn't realise the despair he was feeling.
"I think so," she replied, and left him behind.
Himmel's face was still. He stood up very slowly and closed the door that Frieren had left ajar, staring straight forward as if her shape still inhabited the space. He closed his eyes, thinking on the mistake he'd made, the mistake he longed a statue could correct.
"Would you like to continue for the day?" the sculptor rasped, his head bowed in respect.
Himmel shook himself and turned around, smiling like a hero would. "Yes, let's. There's still lots of work to be done."
He adopted the previous pose, committing to the image. The sounds in the workshop were reduced to the only whistle of wind outside and the chipping of Meibel's chisel.
Since it was often only Himmel who stayed behind in the evening to work on the sculpture, he and Meibel had taken to talking away the time. It took several days for the old craftsman to open up to his patron, but by now, they had reached a quiet understanding.
Some twenty minutes of quiet passed before someone spoke, and it was the sculptor who did so.
"Would you permit me to speak freely?"
"Of course."
The chisel kept working away, as he spoke. "If the situation is as I understand… I think this is a lovely gift you're giving, but also a little cruel."
"Why would you say that?"
He didn't speak again for awhile. "Perhaps I don't understand correctly. I would ask the same question your companion did: I am a perfectionist myself, which makes me wonder why you have not been satisfied with our work so far."
Himmel thought about it. The sculptor had indeed produced recreations of his face that would satisfy almost all criteria- but they hadn't satisfied him. Everytime, he'd looked and thought there was something missing. Something indiscernible, that even he couldn't quite put his finger on.
The solution wasn't too hard to reach. If the model wasn't perfect, then the statue never would be either.
Himmel felt the sudden urge to speak. He had failed to do so with Heiter and Eisen- his closest friends- but a shroud of anonymity suddenly seemed like a blessing. Perhaps, in this environment, he could speak with more freedom, more honesty.
"Recently, I made a very grave mistake."
The sculptor barely glanced up from his work. "What kind of mistake?"
"I said something I shouldn't have done."
"To your companion?"
He nodded. It was obvious who they were talking about. Meibel had heard their last conversation, and several others before.
"My mistake will change how she remembers me," he whispered. "Instead of remembering me as 'Himmel the Hero', she'll remember me as I am. She'll remember me for the words I left, not my actions beforehand. She'll remember me for my selfishness. Those words weren't fair. I should never have said them. But now, that's how she'll think of me, and it hurts."
"You want this statue to be of 'Himmel the Hero'," he uttered. "Not of yourself."
A self-deprecating laugh. "Sounds ridiculous, doesn't it? But yes."
"It's a difficult thing to control, how you're remembered." A pause.
"Evidently."
"I know that all too well."
Himmel looked up in surprise at the sculptor's words. At long last, the sculptor had looked away from his work, his chisel, and the hero saw a glimpse of dark brown eyes beneath the pale white eyebrows.
He suddenly wondered just how old Meibel really was.
The sculptor pointed behind Himmel's head. "You see the back corner of my workshop? It didn't used to be so empty. Once, a statue stood there. A statue of my wife."
"…"
"We were not married long. Just a few, short years. I had loved her much longer than that, but she married another first. She had to have her heart broken before giving it to me."
"What was her name?" he asked, gently.
"Frieda." A small, simple smile. "She was the only love of my life. She still is."
"Why did you put the statue away?" Himmel asked the question because he felt like he should; he also felt like he knew what the sculptor's answer would be.
"It does seem a shame, not to display it. If someone asked me, I would say that statue of Frieda was my masterpiece. I wanted it to be so. It was to be perfect and beautiful- exactly how a husband should remember their wife.
I didn't have long to work on the statue. She came down with an illness late in the winter. Not many recovered from it. Soon, she was bedridden, and I realised I had so little to remember her by. Only my memories of a few short years. So, I asked that she model for me, and Frieda agreed.
I was proud the day I showed her my work. I expected her to be pleased too. It was a beautiful statue. As perfect as I could have hoped for. But to my surprise, Frieda didn't seem pleased at all. Still, she smiled all the same. 'You've made me too beautiful', she said. 'That's not who I really am.'"
He went quiet again, resuming work on the statue. Himmel waited patiently for him to find the words to continue.
"She died when spring came. She's buried near the meadow, outside Felsein- she always loved that meadow. I put the statue on a short pedestal near her grave, and left flowers at its feet." He shook his head, long and hard. "I wanted that statue to be a tribute to our love, but everyday, I would think on her words… 'You've made me too beautiful. That's not who I really am.' And everyday, I would hate the statue a little more.
It started to see all its faults. I started to hate that the statue was cold and dead, like Frieda herself. It was so perfect it became imperfect. First, I took the statue away from her grave- only the pedestal remains, now. Then, I put it right there, in the corner of my workshop, until I hated it enough to lock away in a cupboard and never look upon my 'masterpiece' again."
A smile appeared, as rueful as Himmel's had been. "Now, I'm struggling to remember what Frieda looked like- but that's fine. I'm not sad about that. I know for a fact that she didn't look like my 'masterpiece'."
Himmel's eyes landed on his own statue, an incomplete representation of his face that, barely an hour ago, Frieren had looked on and then looked away.
"Even if there were statues of Flamme all around, I don't think it would change how I remembered her. I'd remember her as she was, not as a sculptor imagined her to be."
"It's a difficult thing to control, how you're remembered," the sculptor repeated. "Especially by those who outlive you."
Frieren was usually content to spend her time idle, but even she had grown tired of waiting around in Felsein. It had only been the course of a single winter, but this period of 'waiting for Himmel's vanity to satiate itself' felt longer than usual.
She wasn't sure if it was because they'd completed the journey- succeeded in all that they'd set out to do. Himmel's desire for there to be one last 'perfect statue' of the Hero Party was decidedly a side quest. The Demon King was gone. The parade in the capital was over. They'd already posed for a dozen other statues before.
Her heart was already exploring the Southern Lands. She was miles away from Felsein in her imagination. She would meet the Hero Party again at the coming of the Era Meteor shower. For her, it was a nice enough ending.
Himmel was finally satisfied with his part of the statue- and it only took weeks. After that, Heiter, Eisen and herself had been ready to pose for the sculptor and get it over with, but out of nowhere, the hero told them they didn't need to.
"You've already waited long enough," Himmel said, smiling. "There's plenty of statues of all four of us. This one can be of Himmel the Hero and Himmel the Hero alone. What could be a better tribute to my beauty than that?"
The three of them only shrugged in response. It was only Himmel being Himmel.
Today, they were planning on saying goodbye and heading their separate ways. It was a strange feeling within; her farewells to Heiter and Eisen had been brief, as they liked. Ten years wasn't long, but it was a fair amount of time to be spend with one set of companions. It was only natural to feel a little… off.
She still had to say goodbye to Himmel. Heiter had told her she would find him in a meadow just outside of Felsein.
"Don't be late. Himmel's waiting for you." Heiter hesitated, and only afterwards laughed. "Don't keep him waiting as long as he kept you."
So, she set off for the meadow at noon, in her usual adventuring clothes, with her suitcase full. She would say goodbye to Himmel and then head off to the Southern Lands. It was a simple task.
As she walked through Felsein towards the meadow, the town's clocktower chimed, signalling noon. Snow still lined the ground, but much of it was melting, and there was even some sunlight breaking through the clouds. Spring was coming, and with it, a new adventure in the Southern Lands.
Frieren smiled, only to feel a slight sense of apprehension, before Himmel came into view.
"I love you."
His words kept coming back to her, for some reason. They hadn't spoken of it since the field of flowers. Himmel said it wasn't too important- the equivalent of drunken ramblings- so she'd shrugged and taken him at his word.
All it meant was that he cared about her. Nothing too out of the ordinary.
So why did this prospective goodbye feel different to the others?
She shook her head. It wasn't any different. Himmel had said so himself. She would say goodbye and carry on. That was all.
The meadow came into view, and with it Himmel himself. He was standing very still, right in the middle of a patch of frosted grass, the snow of winter half melted in the early spring dew.
Frieren walked up behind him without saying a word- she expected him to hear her footsteps, but he didn't respond straight away. He kept his back turned.
She opened her mouth to announce herself but didn't have to.
"Good afternoon, Frieren," he said brightly. Still, Himmel didn't turn around.
"Good afternoon," she said back. "Why did you want to meet me here?"
"To see you off before you leave, of course."
"But why here? Why not at the inn?"
No response. Frieren blinked and came to stand by his side. Himmel wasn't looking straight forward; instead, he was looking at the ground, where a stone pedestal lay. It was where a statue might be placed- only there was no statue. Yet.
"There are graves nearby," Himmel rasped, gesturing to their right. "Personal graves for the villagers of Felsein. Our sculptor told me that his wife was buried there. This pedestal used to be where a statue of her was placed."
"I see." She blinked. "Why was it moved?"
"You'll have to ask him that," Himmel said, rather obliquely. "But he also gave me permission to use the pedestal, since it isn't occupied anymore."
Frieren looked at the empty stone platform, and then back at him. "Oh... I see. You're going to put that statue of yourself here."
"Yes. I rather like the spot." He flicked his wrist at their surroundings. "It's a lovely meadow, and I'm sure it will continue to look lovely throughout all the seasons. If there's going to be a statue of me, it should have some nice views to look at."
"Why not put it in the centre of Felsein, where everyone can see it?" She rolled her eyes. "Then, more people will know of your legendary narcissism."
Himmel's smile was tempered, but sincere. "They don't need to know. Remember, this statue of me is a gift from the present to the future. More specifically, it's a present to you."
"Thank you, again."
She didn't see much need to prevaricate and resisted the urge to bring up those three words he'd told her at the castle. If he didn't want to talk about it, she wouldn't force him. It was allowed to be insignificant. Frieren wouldn't look for a mystery where there wasn't one.
So she ignored the contrarian voice whispering that it did matter, that it wasn't insignificant, and extended her hand to him.
"Well, I should go. Goodbye Himmel-"
"I'd like you to come back and see the statue once it's done, Frieren."
"Do I have to?"
A laugh, though it didn't seem like his usual laugh. "I know we've posed for lots of them over the years. You'll not be lacking for sculptures of me to look at, but this one is going to be special, Frieren."
She'd shrugged, non-committal. "I can't imagine it will be a problem to visit Felsein again, in a few hundred years-"
"Promise me."
"Himmel?"
He'd looked at her, unblinking, intent. "Promise me you'll come back and see the statue. Promise you'll come back here one day."
"Come back here one day? When?"
"When you understand."
Frieren knew what he was referring to, right away. They were right back in the Demon King's castle.
And then he spoke once more, in her memories.
"I love you."
"Understand what you told me, you mean?" Her voice had gotten quieter, for some reason, and she couldn't look away from his sky blue eyes.
"Yes." A sad, bittersweet smile. "That."
There was a peculiar feeling in her chest, like someone had imprisoned her heart in chains.
"Alright, Himmel. I promise." A pregnant pause, and then she turned around, because she didn't quite know what else to do. She started to walk away, but not before one last farewell.
"Goodbye, Himmel. I'll see you in fifty years, at the Era Meteor shower."
"…"
He did not reply, nor confirm he would be there. For whatever reason, Frieren didn't demand otherwise. The elf just walked away, without looking back.
It was only when the meadow was gone, when Felsein was gone, when Himmel was nowhere to be found, that she wondered why he'd not said anything back.
She wondered why she felt so empty.
She wondered why it hurt that he didn't say goodbye in return.
Oh well, Frieren thought. I'll see him at the Era Meteor shower and ask him then.
But over the years, those chains around her heart would only get longer and longer, heavier and heavier.
Frieren would have to wait a long, long time to find out why he didn't say goodbye.