The world was vast – vast enough to hold such a picture. But even so… to see such a thing struck the imagination of anyone. However, few could witness it, but those who did would surely be shocked. Maybe they would write a book about it, or perhaps – even a whole poem. It depended on them.
The scene itself was not all-encompassing: not the stars of the night sky lined up on the ground, not a ray of light piercing the thickness of the soil and soaring upward, not the end of a rainbow. Just two beings, busy with the fact that they ate together, one meal. And precisely in this lay the charm of the moment. The first had long horns growing from her head, an emotionless face and a large physique compared to her dining companion. The second had no horns, but long sharp ears and a content expression. She was smaller, clearly a child.
A demoness and an elf – that was the charm of the scene. They ate the same food, sat together… despite being considered enemies. This alone was a phenomenon worth seeing with one’s own eyes to believe. The horned being was the enemy of all living things, a monster killing without a drop of regret. Such beings were not uncommon, but not like her. Maybe this was some mistake? Why didn’t she pounce on this defenseless child?
The elf, on the other hand, was a rarity. To see one in a lifetime was an event. Elves by nature are reclusive, living mainly in forests, living so long that death catches up with them only by arrow or spell, but not by old age. To see them together – was something impossible.
— And how long… has this demon king ruled? — This was a question that arose after Serie’s story. However, there were no exact figures in her explanation. Perhaps very long. Probably… thousands of years? Even Serie herself mentioned it, this demon king was famous.
— I don’t know the exact numbers. He already existed… when I was born, — answered Frieren and set aside the empty bowl. Her stomach was full. She raised her head to the sky and thought. — He is about two thousand years old. According to my kin, he appeared back in the mythical era.
— Two… — repeated Sefi and shuddered at the very thought. Two thousand… that’s twenty centuries. A human barely lives one… And he is a demon. Could it be that she herself now had the same… long lifespan? What did that even mean? Why?
Be that as it may, she still thought within the framework of a human mind – a mind bound by time. To be honest, she couldn’t even imagine a hundred years of life, it seemed like some kind of mysticism. Not that humans lived much less, but… her family was never known for longevity. Her grandfather and grandmother didn’t even reach a hundred years, dying around 85… like their ancestors. As if cursed, it was tied to illness, for her grandfather had liver problems at the time, a deficiency. Cirrhosis of the liver, it seemed? Her grandmother died of a stroke. Her ancestors of other illnesses, but mostly the men from liver problems, and the women from heart disease. And now she herself might live… well… that long. It was like crossing a certain line, beyond which she didn’t know what to do next. She had stepped beyond and had no idea what to do. And in general as a human she had no idea what to do, for humans surely do not live two thousand years.
Hm. It was similar to the time when she finished school and reached adulthood. Not that there was much choice then – her parents mostly helped, gave advice… and imposed their wishes. That was normal. But still, the feeling was similar. Although now everything had become far grander. Tens, maybe hundreds of times more. In such a life she might try more than one profession, live not just one life. It was… too much. Too much for someone who not long ago… hm, now she could say “a few years ago,” since she was a long-liver… was she allowed to say that? Though it had been three years, a whole three years. Or four? Thousands of doors lay before her, and she did not know what to choose… unknown. It was… shocking.
— What’s wrong with you? — Frieren touched her shoulder, pulling her out of her thoughts. The elf looked at her with slight concern. The demoness shook her head and sighed.
— I’m fine, don’t worry. — Saying this, she glanced into the distance, somewhere between the trees. The thoughts would not cease. — Hey, Frieren… I have a question.
In fact, she had been thinking about Frieren’s words. Past words. Perhaps, for long-lived beings, having such low… how to put it… interest in things and passing through different stages of life very slowly – was a necessity. A defense mechanism. Emotionlessness – their key to survival. And was she like that too? What kind of… dilemma was this? Maybe… damn.
— You say you are four centuries old. Why are you so unskilled? — It was not a sarcastic question, not an attempt to hurt or offend. Just a question. Frieren at first grew downcast, but seeing the seriousness of the words… sighed. — Even so… with proper training skills can be mastered in ten years, even if lazy. Yes, you are a child, but still you’re in the forest, and here survival skills should be at their peak: cooking, sewing or being able to wake up quickly in the mornings.
— I see… You know, your very idea of such beings as us is a mistake, — said Frieren, pointing at her. — You think like a fleeting creature, like a human who has little time. You take them as the basis, but if so, then we are fundamentally different. — Frieren stood and stepped forward, turning to her. — As I said before, we have time to make decisions. And traits laid by nature, so that we do not harm ourselves. These are the main reasons we are so unhurried. There are also several dozen smaller ones.
Frieren raised one finger:
— Elves, if they become interested in something, it is for a long time. That’s why we choose slowly, carefully, so that it is good for us. It’s like a path in our life. And for someone, finding this path may take thousands of years. And so far… I have not found my path.
— I see.
A second finger:
— For us, studying something is different. Someone living might be satisfied with reaching the peak of science, but we… are not like that. If we start something, we want to bring it to the end. It’s embedded in us. So that the matter lasts longer. For without this we might learn much, but everything would end too quickly. We have enough time, but not enough things we want to study.
— I see…
A third finger:
— Our bodies themselves grow slowly. This is one of the reasons why we don’t want to take on everything at once. I may try to master the path of the sword, but I cannot succeed due to physical limitations. I may try to comprehend magic, but learning must come from a being similar to me. Otherwise the teacher will leave before I can cast even one spell. And also the amount of mana depends mainly on the being itself and its capabilities, so a human who has lived forty years may be stronger than elves who lived eight hundred years, not because the elves are weak, but because this is their bodily problem… although mostly elves are still stronger than humans in that regard. Yes, I demonstrate good magical skills in battle, but that is my specificity… so-called talent. But not all elves are mages, and not all are warriors. Our bodies do not allow it.
— Hm… difficult.
A fourth finger:
— Living so long, it’s hard to keep track of time. If long-livers like us think about every day… or even every year, we will wear ourselves out. For the years may be thousands. But not our spirit. Do you understand? Not everyone is great, like a rock. And yet even rocks are worn down by time – just like us. If we constantly took this into account, nothing would remain of us.
— …That’s… problematic.
A fifth finger:
— Elves may live long, but we are living, like everyone else. We can feel. And sometimes it hurts because of that. For living so long, simple words can wound more than they should. And we may remember them for decades – simply because we can. The problem flowing from the previous one — we do not value time and keep replaying words in our mind. This is the reason we are so… detached. In boiling life someone may say words that hurt us, and the pain will last for decades. Isn’t that terrible? It sounds petty, but it is true. This is one of the reasons why we are not quick to take up anything.
— I don’t understand… can you explain? — asked Sefi, and then Frieren nervously rubbed her hands and stared at the ground. — Please.
— Well… understand. If you are studying something, and someone tells you that you are unskilled, not born for this… that you need to stop… it’s hurtful. — And Sefi did not understand, tilting her head.
— And why so? You can just ignore it… and you’ll be able to learn anyway, — she said, not understanding the words. Indeed, why? Ehh somehow… childish.
— That’s just it! You talk like humans! We are not like that, you see? We choose what we want to study based on what interests us. We think about it for decades and centuries. And then someone tells you that you are unskilled and must stop it! — By the end Frieren was stomping her feet on the ground. She was very angry.
— But they might just… say it in the heat of the moment. Why take offense? — Quite logical. Sefi would just ignore it and continue.
— Ugh! Sefi… just imagine: you chose to study something, and then someone tells you you’re unskilled. How would you feel? — Frieren was proud of herself, it seemed she was about to make her understand. Heh! Even if they were emotionless for the most part, the feeling of satisfaction from being right… that was cool! Fun!
— I… would feel nothing, — said Sefi, partly from herself. Nothing should be taken too close to heart. If you pursue something, sooner or later it will yield results. And perhaps partly from her new nature.
— Ooh… — For Frieren it was an unexpected answer. Though partly expected – for her companion was a demon. She felt nothing. And how had she tried to explain everything to her?.. — Uf, fine. Then just understand: with our perception of time even one word can undermine confidence in ourselves and in what we chose in life. We will constantly be distracted.
— Hm… weaklings.
— SEFI!!!
***
So, Sefi wanted to hear those five reasons, but Frieren refused, said that she had to figure it all out herself, and snorted. Was she offended? Eh, awkward… but still, they are softies. To get offended at words? Kind of strange, and to hold something like that in your head for decades... Still, since Frieren went quiet… she actually turned away and clasped her hands – exactly like a child. Although she really is a child. Such behavior is forgivable for her.
— Eat. And sorry once again, — the woman gave her another portion of meat. She spoiled her too much.
Frieren, though offended, did not refuse the food, took the plate and turned away again. — "For now I won’t try… asking for forgiveness," — Sefi decided.
It wasn’t pride. Not at all. She just didn’t know how to deal with children. She had never had any of her own. Yes, sometimes she had to look after them on weekends, but never longer than a day, and even then only at the request of relatives. For example, once she babysat her sister’s child, who was already married… yeah… her younger sister. Anyway, not important. Back then she spent about three hours with the baby, maybe more? She didn’t remember. But that child wore her out. Too energetic: the playground, the bike – all in just a couple of hours! A terrifying memory. The next day her muscles were sore. She just wasn’t used to that. How do kindergarten teachers cope with a horde of such children? And in the end, when she didn’t buy him ice cream, the child got offended. Why? He had already eaten. More than one was unhealthy. But…
Frieren, even though she was… four hundred years old, was still a little girl. Not as active as ordinary kids, but… Sefi had no experience at all in making up with children. Eh, she bought him toys, a gun and… a car… um… she didn’t know what was needed.
At work, with colleagues, it was different. It wasn’t easy to truly offend someone, and if it did happen – words often fixed everything. An exchange of apologies, a couple of kind words and, if things were really bad, then lunch at your expense. But children… well, back then the ice cream didn’t work. And even the apologies weren’t accepted! Maybe it all depends on upbringing and circumstances. But… complicated personalities. Was she the same way in childhood?
Admittedly, Sefi thought of herself as smarter than her peers. Maybe that was true, maybe not. In her childhood everything was… normal. Not rosy, but not bad either: there was food, friends in the yard, games, presents from parents. What more did one need?
Frieren, meanwhile, had already finished her portion. Gluttonous. Especially considering that she had eaten not so long ago. Well, well. Alright, it was worth thinking more seriously about her words after all. To lay them out on shelves. By understanding them, Sefi might earn forgiveness.
— "Her first reason… or rather excuse? No, reason, that sounds better" — Sefi sat down in the shade. For Frieren she also made a cover, since the proud elf girl didn’t want to leave her “place of being offended.” With magic she built a canopy over her: a wooden structure with stone supports. All created from mana, of course temporary, but practical. Also a bit of training.
Elves choose their life path after long reflection. It was similar to how Sefi in her school years tried to figure out who she wanted to be. Back then people said: be a doctor – you’ll heal your family, and there will always be work. Someone advised going into architecture – good money and prospects. Her parents wanted her to go into business: her father had connections there, and her mother, once a bank manager, had taught her the language of numbers from childhood. She knew what to do, and so she went there… but here, there were no hints at all, nothing. Absolutely.
Her younger sister went into design. Met a guy there, a decent one. They dated for three years. The first – secretly, the second – was the breaking point: the guy got caught by their father and almost got beaten up. But after a talk it was settled, and he introduced himself properly. Father began to support them… although he was still jealous of his daughter. Typical fatherly love. Mother, on the contrary, supported her daughter’s choice and advised Seraphima to find a suitor. She brushed it off. Not important. Maybe later, at that time she was focused on her career. And that helped a lot, because she paid for part of her sister’s grand wedding, not for free, of course. At first they wanted a loan, but she said no! She would help with money, and they would later return everything in parts and without interest. Actually both young ones didn’t want it that way, nevertheless it was insisted on… not by the girl’s parents, but… by the guy’s parents… yeah…
There was also an older brother – served in the honor guard. Tall, slender. She didn’t know her grandparents, only her brother had seen them, and even then not for long. According to her father, they had been respectable people. Respected by many.
She got distracted… elves. They choose their path in life, dedicating themselves fully. Or almost fully. There was logic in that, especially given their longevity. Only… the path could become outdated. Say, someone devoted their life to studying a language, but the civilization that used it disappeared. Or another example – someone became a master of swordsmanship, but the world entered an era of firearms. And then what?
The second reason – the drive for complete knowledge. Maybe Frieren had come up with this recently. Though Sefi knew of people who had also given themselves wholly to science, searching for crumbs of knowledge even under the light of the moon. She hadn’t met them personally, but examples like Newton, Archimedes, Vavilov spoke for themselves. Their work made life easier for others and created the foundation of technology.
But elves… eh… again the problem was their longevity. They lived too long. And didn’t this contradict those earlier words, that their life wasn’t remarkable for loud events?
The third reason – their slow growth. Interesting, how did their years compare with human years? If Frieren was four hundred years old but still a child… maybe 50 to 1? Then she was about 8 years old. Did that mean infancy lasted decades? She cried for a century and wet herself for centuries? What endurance their parents had… Maybe that was why there were so few elves? Though… actually, how many were there? Sefi hadn’t met a single one besides Frieren. Not for her to judge. But the prospect of an eternally crying infant was frightening.
The fourth reason – the desire to be indifferent. To ignore everything. And that was strange, considering the fifth reason – their sensitivity. They get offended, doubt, suffer because of words.
Delicate creatures. And how did they manage to live in the forest? With such dangers. Though it wasn’t right to judge an entire race by one individual. That was unethical and illogical. Maybe they had developed physical abilities? And Frieren didn’t show it because she was a child…
The elf girl herself had said she had a talent for magic. Maybe her parents spoiled her more often? If so, then before her was not only a lazybones, but also a spoiled elf girl. Fine. And how to make peace with her? Spoil her too? With words? “You’re smart, well done”? What else? She didn’t know. And those five reasons… aside from the usual, that with a long life you outlive your loved ones and are forever alone… aside from that she knew nothing. Yeah… she wasn’t very smart. Hopefully words would help settle the situation, otherwise relations with the elf girl would definitely go downhill.
Sefi stood up, walked over to Frieren. She stood for a moment, watching. Then sat down next to her. Silently. Half of her face was visible – and even that was enough. Beautiful. Like a painting. Blur the background a little, add brightness – and you’d get a portrait in the spirit of the great artists. Although…
— "This ruins everything" — a stray lock of hair. She carefully raised her hand and tucked it behind her ear. Now – perfect.
Frieren sat emotionless. Almost. Her eyes widened, she slowly turned to Sefi, her mouth slightly open, like a fish on the shore. She wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come out. A cute sight.
— Sorry for those words. I didn’t mean to hurt your… um… heart? That is, your feelings, — Sefi stumbled. People usually say that feelings are in the heart, but she wasn’t sure how to put it properly.
Frieren only smiled
— As an apology… um… you did well. You’re a clever girl. — And she began to gently pat her on the head. — And I’ll… cook for you, lots of food.
— Um… alright, — the smile faded, and suddenly she laughed. Frieren laughed, and Sefi just looked at her. Beautiful. Like a scene from a book.
Frieren’s laughter didn’t last long, but it was sincere. Rare. The kind children laugh, not even knowing what was funny, just because it was a kind moment. Warm. Sefi didn’t smile in response, she just observed. As if recording everything: the curve of her lips, the reflection of light in her eyes, the way her shoulders trembled slightly with laughter. Inside her, something clicked. Not trembled… no, more like switched.
— You’re strange, I think I said that. — Frieren finally said, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes. — First you say rude things, then you pat my hair.
— It’s not like that, it’s a correction of an aesthetic mistake, — Sefi calmly replied. — The hair ruined the pictorial quality of the frame.
— I’m not a painting.
— That’s not a fact yet...
Frieren snorted, but without resentment this time. They sat together again. The silence between them was different now, it didn’t press, didn’t divide. It simply existed. Like a bridge, not a wall. A good silence.
Sefi looked ahead, at the horizon where the trees slowly swayed under a gentle breeze.
— Five reasons… — she whispered again. — Even if I understand them, I doubt I’ll understand you better… sorry, I can’t… understand them.
— Maybe you won’t, — Frieren shrugged indifferently. — I don’t always understand myself. It’s just… sometimes I feel I need to be silent. That if I speak, it will be worse, and then I still get upset when they don’t believe me...
— You want me to guess because you don’t know how to say it?
Frieren didn’t answer. Instead, she stretched out and lay on her side. For a while she was silent, then quietly said:
— I’m not used to someone staying near when I’m silent. Everyone usually leaves.
— I’m not human, as I know. I have a different perception of rhythm… I can be silent for a very long time. — Sefi shifted her gaze to her. Frieren just lay there.
— Convenient.
— Practical.
Silence again. But in it now there was something more than just the absence of words. There was acceptance. Sefi felt how the inner system of evaluations and reactions in her balanced, found a new point of equilibrium.
This girl… she was different
Only now did Sefi begin to understand the meaning of her words. Not fully, just the outlines, the skeleton of the thought. Everything else – fog. But even that was enough. For beings who live for centuries, what seemed to her irresponsibility – turned out to be the norm. They feel differently, think differently, and, most importantly, allow themselves to live moments differently. To stretch out decisions. To postpone conversations. To live with deferred meaning. They can.
For Sefi it was alien. Unacceptable. Not because she was against it, but because she didn’t know how to live otherwise. She is a demon. And a former human. Both natures leave her no chance for elven slowness, for such slowness. A human’s life – is short. A demon’s life – is cold. In both cases there is linearity, haste, directness. A human must work, be in motion, otherwise he will die... And a demon... she doesn’t know demons, only whether they are a warlike people or creatures? She still hasn’t understood who they are, who she is. Stretching meaning for decades? No. Emotions measured out by time, like an IV drip? Also no. That cannot be.
This is an advantage. And at the same time a weakness.
Sefi hadn’t understood this before. Because she thought like a human. And she should think – like herself. Like a demon with a long, horribly long life. Like a being capable of thinking beyond a single generation.
That is exactly what prevents her from understanding Frieren
But she will try. She must.
Because Frieren – is a reflection. Complex, distorted, but important. A girl who lives in a different system of coordinates. And Sefi is the same. She just hasn’t yet learned to live in this time...
Someday she will understand Frieren’s words. Certainly.
Not because she wants to. But because if she doesn’t understand – she will break. Burn out from within in her own contradictions.
To understand this is not her desire, but a task.
— I don’t know what makes you you... I’m being honest, — suddenly said Sefi, looking somewhere into the leaves. — But I’ll be observing, maybe I’ll understand. I don’t promise it will lead to the right conclusions. But I... am curious... and I think it’s necessary.
— And what if I get offended again?
— Then I’ll tell you again that you’re clever. Apparently, that works. — Frieren laughed again, but not loudly. The woman simply put her hand on her thigh and exhaled some air. — Clever girl.
— You’re probably... good, in your own way...
— That’s quite a soft form of recognizing value, just like that time, I accept it again, thank you.
***
Frieren was already about to leave, but suddenly noticed a strange gesture from Sefi. The demoness was holding a stick in her hand and drawing something on the ground. Surprisingly. These weren’t drawings, but letters. Definitely letters. Hmmm... some kind of... wait.
— You learned to write in Elvish? — she was surprised. The handwriting wasn’t perfect, but definitely better than her own. By a long shot better. Even if it was written on the ground, still... — Trust?
[Frieren]
Trust: 85% → 90%
Reason: We had a good time, without lies
— Sefi, what is this supposed to be? — she asked. By the way, recently Frieren had started calling her by name. Before she said “Demon” or “Seraphima”, and now just – Sefi. And when she switched...
— This is a trust scale. Shows how much I trust you, — she explained calmly, without extra words. Earlier she had already recorded something like this, but only in her native language, back then Frieren didn’t understand anything. And now she decided to practice and write it in Elvish.
— And what’s the maximum on this scale? — Frieren squinted at the writing, as if memorizing every letter.
— One hundred. The limit is one hundred percent, — Sefi replied.
Hearing this, Frieren looked at her with admiration:
— So you trust me that much? Thank you! Only... tell me, how do I reach one hundred percent?
— You need to behave well, not lie, and more often... mmm... — Sefi hesitated. — I haven’t thought it all through yet. It’s a complicated system thing... probably. — She sighed.
In fact, she herself didn’t know how to calculate it properly. Add a percent for every good deed? And how much? By 0.1? Or subtract five at once for a lie? Is that even normal?
— Uh-huh, uh-huh, — Frieren nodded, closing her eyes. — Hmm... and if I reach one hundred percent, will your trust become limitless?
— Depends on external factors. However, you already were at one hundred, but then it dropped... because you lied to me and came later. — At these words Frieren’s face stretched, and she stared at her with wide eyes.
— So... at the beginning you trusted me completely? — she whispered.
Sefi nodded. And then Frieren, as if realizing everything, looked at her more closely.
— Hey... don’t you think that’s... um, a little strange?
— In what sense? — Sefi asked back and froze, trying to understand what she meant. Predicting Frieren’s train of thought was nearly impossible. Better just to listen.
— Well... you trusted me right away. Isn’t that supposed to happen gradually? Why immediately one hundred percent?
And then Sefi froze, her mouth slightly open. There it was. That’s exactly what Frieren wanted to feel, the satisfaction of realization. Sefi may be smart, but... not completely, and when she makes that kind of face from a mistake, it’s just priceless! Waaa! The gears inside the demoness were turning and she gave an answer, somewhat... unhurriedly.
— Logical. Strange that I didn’t think of that myself, — the demoness nodded and picked the stick back up. Frieren looked at her with a proud smile and chuckled a little.
[Frieren]
Trust: 0% → 5%
— That’s the right way, — Sefi said with satisfaction, looking at the result. Very cool.
— Hey! That’s not fair! Why don’t you trust me?! — Frieren exclaimed. That wasn’t her plan! Not at all!