I think…

— I think... I think... I think this is wrong, Frieren, — Seraphima said this while watching the elf manipulate the earth. No, it was magnificent. The bursts of mana and its very form... it was... something completely different, gentle... somehow so. She usually thought that mana was all the same.

Though she had only seen three glimpses of mana. The first was her own: the energy surrounding her. It moved fast and very... uh, how to say, as if along a set target – no smoothness. It poured into the ground, went straight forward, then sharply turned right at ninety degrees. Like a program.

The second – was Serie’s mana... arhg! Fine, Miss Serie. For some reason, she just couldn’t say her name plainly. A habit? Maybe some kind of curse? There’s magic here after all... whatever. Miss Serie’s mana... there’s a lot of it, it’s dense, like a wave, the onslaught of a tsunami. At first she thought that mana also moved straight, like hers, and the deviations were only because of the quantity. But she had simply underestimated it. Even that handful of mana at the start... by its form purely blue, just as she imagined it: like a burning fire, but not the one that burns with orange flame, a clean one, without impurities. It burned... or maybe she just imagined it that way. Sefi herself didn’t know, couldn’t make sense of it. Another territory, something else entirely. Her mind couldn’t wrap around such a thing.

Frieren was softness, and Miss Serie was density. Two opposites. White and yellow. And she herself... kind of strange, or rather, straight. And she was brown? Well, that’s by her hair. And horned. Ugh...

No matter how hard she tried to understand, it just didn’t fit in her head: that this yellow-haired elf had such smooth, utterly perfect... absolute power, might...

If you think about it...

— And how long are you going to think? Maybe finish thinking already? — Frieren shouted that at her. It was unusual to hear her voice... well, when she shouted like that. The white-haired one was now busy making some kind of golem. Sefi herself had asked her to teach that – such helpers would be useful in her life. The demoness was confident, thought she could copy it, but then difficulties arose.

For some reason she couldn’t make them. It’s... ugh, stupid. Sefi had copied the form perfectly, so why didn’t her lumps of stone move, while Frieren’s obeyed like dolls? What did she do wrong? Maybe she pronounced the spell incorrectly, or maybe...

— I haven’t figured it out yet, wait a bit more... — The demoness peered at the golem. It was made of several large pieces of stone and dozens of smaller ones. Yellow eyes and something like fingers on its hands, though on its legs there were none – just feet without toes. And in general, in shape it resembled a snowman more than a humanoid. That way was simpler, but why was her golem... so... lifeless?!

Seraphima looked closely at the mana. Maybe that was the problem? Hm... possibly. Frieren’s mana could act like a stream, flowing around everything, while hers was rough. No, not rough... how to say... it worked along lines. Like a program, yes! Like a program!

— Seems to me I won’t be able to repeat this... — And hearing that, Frieren snorted. The golem crumbled before their eyes, pebbles rolled away, and the boulders stayed in place. The yellow eyes went out instantly. Looked brutal.

— Eat. — By the way, Sefi thought that Frieren had become a freeloader, since she asked for food so... directly. Impolite. However, that’s exactly how she raised her... and besides food, she couldn’t really give her anything else.

She tried to teach Frieren the magic of “Purification,” but she couldn’t master it. The demoness spoke too subtly and precisely, and the childish mind refused to grasp it, so she didn’t learn. Of course, after that, the zeal for lessons weakened... yet even so, the elf kept coming. And, speaking of miracles, she came on time! That was... simply... good, no, that was magnificent. Though then she still fell asleep, and the lesson had to be postponed. That went on for a month until they finally came up with the idea to move the start of lessons to noon. Even then, Frieren in her sleepy state would come to her house in the morning and sleep on the bed already prepared for her.

Ah, about the house! The house was good, for two residents, of course. It had four rooms! Considering her previous house had only two, one for the kitchen and one for sleeping, this was a great result. There was a roof, solid walls, beautiful windows. Doors, after all, and even decent furniture.

One room for Frieren: there was a wardrobe, a bed, and even a carpet with a table. A children’s room, basically. Though there was mostly nothing on the table, but maybe she would fix that in the future... eh, hoping is good too. And it was very spacious, and there was a window. The mattress of the bed was made of wool, which served as filling, and the cover was of hides and leather. Very soft, according to the elf.

Her own room was smaller, but more convenient. Everything at hand. A simple wardrobe, a bed, and that’s all. A table wasn’t needed: she rarely wrote, and when she did, it was on the ground or on tree bark – since there was no paper. And she didn’t know how to make it. She tried, of course, to weave something like paper from threads... what was it called... papyrus, maybe? However, she lacked the skill, and the patience too.

The main treasure was the kitchen. It was big. Very. There were beautiful chairs, three of them. For some reason, Frieren now liked to put her feet on one of them. So she needed two. The table wasn’t very pretty but large. She had tried to make something like gas... well, it didn’t work, so just a small stove of stone and clay. She found the clay with Frieren’s help. The fridge was outside, or rather, in the storage: that’s a cellar, if anything. There were many shelves and dishes. The dishes were mostly wooden, but now there were metal spoons too.

She got them using magic. The process was long, but, to put it briefly, she managed to pull pieces of iron from the earth’s ore. Melting it, like in a movie, didn’t work, so she had to crush it for a long time, and still, it turned out not quite right. She thought she only needed to heat the iron and pour it into a mold... yeah. In general, she didn’t become a blacksmith, just used magic to turn it all into a spoon. It was cool, and Frieren was surprised, but then Sefi herself almost fell to the ground. Thankfully, she stood firm. Didn’t fall face first into the mud.

Now she finally managed to properly present her “Creation” – and very clearly and simply. There are two types of this magic.

Temporary – the one that makes things from mana. The plus is that no materials are spent on production. The problem – they constantly require mana. In the long run, that’s complete nonsense. For example, she can create... hm, a fork made of mana. Let it be iron. This fork will constantly consume mana. Not a problem if there’s a lot of it… however, eeeh, better not. It also depends on the object itself: if she makes, for example, a door, it will consume more than a fork. So she can’t overuse this.

The second is a permanent item. It will remain for life until it’s broken. Good in the long term, only it consumes so much that half of her mana capacity is gone. And that’s only for small items, for example, a spoon. Almost a third of her reserve was spent, even with the ready iron. Very costly, but little by little she’s modifying this process. By the way, this creation is similar to crafting items... hm, from which game? Mine... Mine... Minecraft! Yes, yes, from that one! Although the demoness can create without materials, this requires “payment” – her mana. The more resources used for crafting, the less the payment.

The Law of Payment – that’s what she called it

No apple fell on her head, but she thinks it’s a good law, even if it works only for her. And she’s not Plato.

— Food! — shouted Frieren, already banging the cutlery on the table like a child. Technically, in reality, she was a child, even if she had lived longer than Sefi’s entire life, several dozen times over. Nevertheless, a child.

She was served potatoes with meat. Seasoned only with salt, no sauces yet. But she’s making them... soon they’ll be ready. Frieren once brought her... ahem, she’ll list it:

Potato seeds, onion, tomatoes. And that’s it. That’s the whole set. With her magic, Sefi managed to grow all the vegetables and make an excellent dish from them. You wouldn’t exactly lick your fingers, but it wasn’t bad either — judging by Frieren’s eyes, it was even very good.

This month was very productive! So many innovations. She made sauce preparations! True, in clay jars wrapped in cloth, but still. The new addition to the food would be just... hm, magnificent? Alright, simply lovely. Just needs to age a bit. Eeeh... yes.

For the sauce she boiled the tomatoes and with that removed their skin. She finely chopped the onions, very finely. Didn’t cry, but Frieren, standing nearby, sure did. Sefi never thought Frieren would cry like that.

There was no garlic, so she used that bitter plant, in very small amounts. No oil either… so she asked the elf to find a plant like a sunflower, describing its appearance and purpose. She managed, but it was... a mutant. Nothing else to call it. No, she did bring the plant, but the “seeds” on it – were... teeth. TEETH! It was some kind of mutant man-eater! And Frieren brought it! DRAGGED IT ALONG THE GROUND! HORRIFYING! Outwardly – yes, the very sunflower she knew, except the “face,” which usually looks at the sun, now opened up, and there were sharp teeth. Also several times bigger than normal.

How could there be oil in that? Apparently, it was its enzyme to lure animals… Horrible, to put it briefly. Well, they got the oil, but Sefi strictly forbade Frieren to go near such things. Also, Frieren helped a lot here — apparently elves extract oil this way in the forest... after this information, her idea of those vegetarian elves went... somewhere far away. Hard to imagine elves hunting plants. Something’s wrong there.

Anyway, about the sauce. So, she fried the onions and tomatoes over fire, then added salt; pity there was no pepper, nevertheless, the taste should be good. With her hand she started kneading this mash, wished for a blender, but there wasn’t one, so she mixed and crushed it all into a paste. Very thoroughly.

Then she poured it into jars and began to wait – can it be used right away? Well, probably yes, only her mother always let it age... so she’ll do the same. Though she doesn’t know why.

***

Such days went on for a long time, about three or four months. It was fun. The girl became a regular visitor to this place, and even more of a freeloader. Sometimes Sefi caught her sneaking into the cellar. What kind of food was there? A variety. But not much.

During that time, she managed to grow various crops: carrots, apples, and corn. The second one, thanks to her magic and countless attempts at selection, turned out especially tasty. She also stored meat and, in addition, jam. Making it turned out to be the easiest thing, and it was exactly what the elf aimed for – sweet treats always attract children. Fortunately, there was plenty of jam, and Friren didn’t really steal… she just sneaked in with a spoon and a piece of bread. It looked funny, seeing her eat jam with bread... hah, cute.

As for the sauces, it turned out – they didn’t need to be aged at all. At that moment she realized for the first time that not all her mother’s teachings were right. The thought threw her off balance: it had always seemed that her mom was right about everything, but it turned out… not always. A miracle, to say the least. Her brain broke at first… but she accepted the fact.

It turned out pretty good, though what her mother made still tasted better. Her mother had been taught by her grandmother – heritage, generations, experience. Besides, her mother had more opportunities: her father never limited her hobbies, on the contrary – he helped, supported her interest, and even funded it. She didn’t have to haul buckets of water or crank a manual meat grinder machines had long replaced that. The only difficulty left was sealing the jars and hitting the perfect sugar proportions. One mistake – the lids would bulge. But her mother had one trick: she said that if you sprinkle salt on the lid, the chance of an explosion is smaller. Why so, she didn’t know herselfjust that her grandmother had taught her that. There was a version that the salt absorbs excess moisture from outside, and everything evens out. Like that, probably? Sefi wasn’t a physicist, she just repeated that assumption. The jars were stored in the cellar: after all, their house was private, not an apartment. The neighborhood was quiet, peaceful, lovely. A perfect place for them, though she had several problems. She lived in a private house... well yes, only without electronics or appliances, everything was done by hand, and the sugar was different, made from the juice of sweet fruits and apples. So it was a bit scary. And the jars weren’t glass, but clay, actual pots! She wrapped them in cloth and set them down, hoping for the best.

She thought about her mom’s jam, and her thoughts tangled – oh right, she was talking about sauce! Well, it turned out fine, only instead of sugar there was salt… Hmm, if it were just a little spicier, it would be perfect… Anyway, she’d take that into account next time.

Magic… magic… it stalled. New spells and applications appeared, but increasing mana capacity became incredibly difficult. If earlier the circle grew by several centimeters a week, now it was only millimeters or less. She managed to reach just a few dozen centimeters beyond the previous 60 meters – not much. And that’s after all that time!

All theory and practice shifted toward improving spell quality and reducing mana cost. Unfortunately, the progress there was small. Initially, she planned to increase her mana reserve so that creating objects wouldn’t require large expenditures. Now it seemed that plan had been built on too little data and overly optimistic expectations. She even asked Friren for help. The girl tried her best, but it didn’t help much – their concepts of magic were too different. She tried to understand, but didn’t have enough mind for it. There were thoughts about reducing stages or assembling like a constructor – didn’t work.

Enough of the bad stuff… If that’s the case, better do something useful, maybe that’s where the idea will come from. Hm...

The demoness began wandering around the house. There was less work to do, and that scared her: she suddenly had free time, and nothing to occupy herself with. Fields – done, food – there, house – there… What’s missing… Freiren. She needed to talk to her, if she wasn’t asleep, of course.

— May I? — she knocked on the elf girl’s door. A few seconds later, it opened – she wasn’t asleep, surprisingly. Though there was a book in her hands. Makes sense, she kept herself busy reading. — Can we do something?

— But… lesson time is over, and I wanted to read, — indeed, it was evening. Wait! Freiren usually left at this time?! Why was she here?

— You’re not going home today? — The demoness knelt down, meeting her gaze. The little one just stood there, expressionless. The adult, too. Two emotionless faces. They looked so alike.

— I said I’d come later, — simple and practical. Not suspicious at all, very much like an elf. Probably all elves were like that – with their nature of indifference. Where did they get… that… fine, must be evolutionary.

— And your parents didn’t go into details? — The girl shook her head. — How… uh, — she wanted to say “careless,” but not in front of the child, — trusting, very much so.

And how could they even do that? Never mind. Since that’s the case, better not to betray… trust? Even if she’d never met them. She should take care of her first night here.

— Elves aren’t humans, don’t compare them, — said Freiren, as if reading her thoughts. The demoness twitched and tilted her head. — You always frown when I talk about elves. I’ve already gotten used to you comparing us, but remember we are not humans.

— I see… got it, — and indeed, in a sense, that was true. Maybe because she’d grown up in a human family, where everything was… well, normal. Though can one even say that? Every living being raises its offspring differently. Insects may abandon them at birth, animals are slightly better – just a few years more. So it’s normal for them, but not for her. After all, the world doesn’t revolve around her. And still… how could they let their daughter stay somewhere alone? Never mind. She’ll get used to it. — Hm, then if you’re reading, I’d like to join. May I?

— Of course! Make yourself comfortable, — Freiren ran to the bed, jumped on it, and patted the spot next to her. The demoness carefully lay down on her stomach. Between them lay the book – not on the first page, but not too far from it either. — The beginning isn’t that important, but if you want, I’ll tell you about it later. For now, let’s read! — So much enthusiasm there it was, Freiren’s favorite pastime. Reading. Good girl.

A few hours passed, and night came. She wanted to sleep, but the white-haired girl had reached an interesting part of the book, and sleep was no longer on her mind. She had to take the book from her hands, get off the bed, and hold it up high. The girl kept jumping and jumping, but couldn’t reach it.

— Give it back! Give it back, I’m telling you, Seraphima! — she even switched to her full name. But the plot, in Sefi’s opinion, wasn’t worth such persistence: it was about a hero among elves who faced evil so great that the Goddess herself chose him along with a man from a human village. The elf was a warrior, and the man a priest, and together they saved the world. Their glory was so great that statues were built in their honor, and they were revered for centuries. The end of the story was close, but the fierce demoness interrupted it – she was stronger than the evil they fought, and, overall, taller.

— I’ll get mad!

— I’ll get mad too. Minus ten percent trust, — Sefi knew the girl usually didn’t want to lose trust: in such cases she’d immediately apologize and admit fault… but not this time.

— Then… then… I’ll deduct from you... um, one hundred percent trust! — she said boldly and jumped again. The stunned demoness froze at those words. Even then the elf girl couldn’t reach her precious book.

— You… dared to use my own spel... I mean, words against me, Freiren? — Sefi frowned. She didn’t want to lose all her trust. And how did Freiren even come up with using such manipulative tactics? Bad influence… from whom, one wonders? — Fine... let’s make a compromise. You’ll sleep tonight, and tomorrow I won’t bother you – you can read this book all you want, no lessons... okay?

— Hmmm, — the elf girl pondered, as if weighing her options. Finally, she nodded to herself and lay down on the bed, reaching for the blanket. — Good night.

— Good girl. Good night, — said Sefi, extinguishing the candle and taking the book with her. Just in case.

A few minutes later, she was already lying on her own bed, holding the tome in her hands. The old leather cover was worn by time. The title and author’s name were gone – either erased or never written. But one thing was clear – the book was very old. The leather was frayed, its brown color faded to white in places, and in some spots, it had vanished completely.

— And what do we have here? — she muttered, opening the pages.

Sefi decided to read further what had so fascinated the little freeloader. The story ended with each of the heroes going their separate ways. The human remained in service and died of old age, while the elf vanished from sight. But the most surprising thing awaited in the afterword.

The author wrote that he wished those who would open this book to know the names of the heroes, for they were the ones who had once saved his life. Long ago, he had created a spell to prevent objects from decaying and cast it upon the book so that it would last for hundreds of centuries. He wanted to preserve the tale of those noble warriors who had protected him and the entire world. Yet the heroes themselves asked that their names not be mentioned in the book, and if they were, then only once. Such noble and modest souls. However, there was a problem:

— Kra… and where’s the second name? — the demoness frowned.

Whatever had happened to the book, the names were lost. Only fragments of letters remained of the elf’s name, and the priest’s human name had vanished completely. Not even a letter.

— Absurd… they could’ve at least used more magic on that. Illogical, — she muttered. After all, this was the most important part — if their names were written here, how could this have happened? What nonsense?

Sefi wondered: how old was this book? If it spoke of “ancient times,” perhaps it was older than Sefie herself, and she had lived quite a long time. Could it be true? Or just a fable on the edge of legend? A scientific text? Well, no matter. The main thing was, she had finished reading it to the end. Now it was time to sleep.

***

The morning was quiet. Soft light slipped into the room, gliding along the floor and illuminating the dusty particles lazily swirling in the air. Sefi, barely awake, once again buried herself in the book – the very same one that had nearly caused a “minus one hundred percent trust crisis” yesterday. She sat on the bed, leaning forward, eagerly flipping through the pages.

Serafima watched from the doorway. She sighed. The elf was far too good at shutting out the world whenever she found something that caught her interest.

— Not even going to have breakfast? — she asked in an even tone. In her hands was a plate with Sefi’s portion. Annoying.

— Later, — the girl replied curtly, not lifting her eyes from the text.

The demoness crossed her arms and walked through the house. She wanted to press her a little, but she had said yesterday that she wouldn’t interfere – so she couldn’t. Best to let her finish reading and then give her extra food at lunch. There wasn’t much to do: food supplies were fine, the fields were watered, the house in order. Idleness weighed on her, and she searched for something, anything, to occupy herself with.

She tried to busy herself with magic, but all the schemes and calculations hit a dead end where the circles grew by mere millimeters. She sighed again and set it aside. No ideas whatsoever. How to increase efficiency? If it were something material, like a tool, you could always add something. For instance, if you wanted a better hoe, you could bend the metal and sharpen it well, or lengthen the handle – but not too much. The width of the blade and all that... but what about magic? How to make it better? It wasn’t exactly material. You couldn’t attach a handle to it – there was simply nowhere to put one – and as for the end result, that wouldn’t do either. The more matter it reproduced, the more mana it would consume... Sure, you could go small-scale, but still, the result wasn’t the same. What to do? She was stuck. Ugh, fine, whatever.

After being defeated by theory, Sefi went outside. The air was fresh, and drops of dew sparkled on the grass. She examined the garden beds, checked the corn sprouts, felt the carrots with her fingers. Everything was going as it should, too much as it should. No work to do.

Returning to the house, Serafima walked past the room where Sefi sat without changing her position. The book still held her captive.

— If you keep reading like that, you’ll ruin your eyes, — said Serafima. No, she wasn’t trying to annoy her, it was just – how could anyone sit in one position and read for so long? Her arms and legs would go numb, or maybe she’d get that electric agony when she steps on the floor. You know, when you’ve been sitting for too long and then suddenly stand up, and your leg hurts.

— My eyesight is better than yours, — the elf replied calmly and turned the page. The demoness froze for a moment, raising an eyebrow.

— Hm... yeah.

She walked around the house again, this time deciding to do something practical: she cleaned out the cellar, double-checked the meat supplies, and rearranged the jars of jam on the shelves, sorting them by berries. The work went easily, but the inner feeling of emptiness didn’t leave her.

Finding herself in the hallway again, she heard a quiet mumbling from Sefi’s room. The elf was reading aloud, clearly thinking no one could hear: short lines from the book, fragments of phrases.

Serafima lingered by the door and realized that it was strangely pleasant to hear that soft voice bringing ancient lines to life.

She quietly entered the room, sat down, leaned against the wall, pulled her knees to her chest, and hugged them, then began to wait. There was nothing to do, only one thing left... To wait for Sefi, nothing more. And then, perhaps, there would be a reason to do something, at least to talk. So she sat there, listening to someone’s voice... Not focusing on the words, just perceiving it as background noise. It felt nice. Hm... yeah... nice... her eyes were closing...

Mmm...

...

...

...

— Sefi? Seeefiii! — She slowly opened her eyes and saw Freiren’s face in front of her. The elf had leaned over and was poking her with a finger, blinking several times. Had she fallen asleep? — Oh! You’re awake.

— I fell asleep, huh... — she mumbled, trying to get up but couldn’t. Her body was stiff. Yeah... she’d worried about the girl so much that she ended up like this herself. Not a pleasant situation. — What time is it?

— I think... hmm... — Freiren stood up and looked out the window, then turned back. — Around noon, maybe.

— Ughr... got it, thanks, — she said, getting up, but immediately crashed back down. Yeahhh, awkward. Face to the floor. Then came the quick sound of footsteps, she was turned face up, Freiren patting her cheeks and asking if she was okay. Something inside stirred. — That’s... nice...

— What’s nice? That I’m slapping you? — the girl asked, stopping and squinting suspiciously. Sefi just widened her eyes at that.

— Not that, Freiren, — she muttered with difficulty, lifted her head, then dropped it again. No strength left at all. It felt like she’d sat motionless for hundreds of years. — The fact that someone worries about me...

— Ah... — The elf suddenly froze, then squeezed her hand and smiled. — Then... I’ll take care of you today!

— Thanks... but no need... — she objected. In response, the girl placed her hand on her chest, pressing slightly. Her frown made it clear—she wouldn’t back down.

— You said yourself that you wouldn’t stop me. And students don’t argue with teachers! — she declared enthusiastically. Overacting a bit. Yes, that happened. Never before... had Sefi been put in such a position.

Sefi only sighed heavily. What can you say... arguing was pointless.

— Fine... do what you want. — Her voice came out tired, as if the words themselves drained her strength. Her body grew even heavier. Embarrassing.

— Perfect! — Freiren nodded happily and immediately jumped up. — I’ll bring something to eat!

She dashed out of the room, leaving Sefi lying on the floor. For a few seconds she just stared at the ceiling and barely smiled. Hopefully that elf wouldn’t burn the house down.

— Student, huh... hm. — She still couldn’t move, as if the ground itself held her down, not letting her go.

Soon the quick steps returned, and the elf burst back in, carrying a tray. The dishes clinked, the food almost flew off, but she somehow managed to bring it all in one piece. Brave and strong one!

— Look! — she announced proudly and set the tray down beside her. — I made it myself. Well... almost... eee probably you made it actually.

— Almost? — Sefi raised an eyebrow. She couldn’t even really smirk; her attempt at one probably looked awful in her condition – too forced. Better not.

— Well... I just reheated what was already there, — Freiren admitted, scratching the back of her head. Then she looked at her again. — But it’ll still taste good! You made it after all!

— Hah... I see, — she muttered, feeling her hands finally starting to respond a little. — The important thing is you tried, Freiren, good job. — The girl set the tray on the floor and helped her sit up; now she was sitting on her butt, waiting for more help, but none came. Freiren lay down on the floor again, immediately grabbing a spoon, scooped up some soup and reached it right to her lips.

— Aaa... open up!

— What? — Sefi’s eyes widened slightly. Her eyes closed; she held back her words behind a thin smile. — You’re serious?

— Of course I’m serious! You said yourself that I should take care of you. So listen!

She was about to protest, but the spoon almost touched her lips. She had to give in. Hot, but... really tasty. Well, she did make it after all. Though there was definitely something else to it, some other flavor... something... familiar...

— Mmm... fine... I admit it... tasty.

— See! — Freiren joyfully bounced in place. Didn’t even scream when her knees hit the floor, what a machine. — Then I’ll feed you all the way till evening!

— Yeahhh... awkward... — Sefi closed her eyes and exhaled again. No desire to argue... and no need... — ...thanks...