"I'm back."
For the past month, since staying here, I've started saying this. I'm getting used to it. I open the door and step inside. At the desk, a white-haired old man writes, engrossed. But I can't let my guard down. No mistakes allowed.
"Oh, Frieren," Heiter says, startled. "You're early. Did you meet Fern…?"
He stares, as he should. I'm holding my staff indoors, not aimed at him, but the tension is palpable. A sign I'm ready to use force if needed.
"You're not in a good mood," Heiter says. "What's wrong? A monster attack?"
"Yeah," I say. "I'm here to deal with a boorish priest-shaped monster."
"That's troubling," he says. "Shall I help find it?"
"No need," I say. "It's right in front of me."
He tries to play it off, but I won't let him. This boorish priest is trickier than any monster or demon. This time, I won't be sidetracked.
"Trouble indeed," Heiter says. "This doesn't seem like a dispelling spell can fix."
"That's up to you," I say. "Fern told me everything. Get it?"
I cut him off, leaving no room for excuses. If he keeps dodging, I'll use something harsher—a numbing spell, maybe. He senses my resolve, raising his hands in surrender with a wry smile. But—
"I see," he says. "It's come to this. I told him to send her back, but now I'm stuck cleaning up."
"…What?" I say.
"Nothing, just talking to myself," he says. "So, what do you want to know? How Himmel and Aura lived together?"
"What?"
"What?"
His words hit me like a bolt, far beyond my expectations. Déjà vu—Fern and I had a similar exchange earlier. Like father, like daughter, I suppose. And more importantly—
"What's that?" I say. "Himmel and her lived together?"
What does that mean? I don't understand. How did this happen? His tone suggests they were together for a long time.
"Well, Frieren," Heiter says, "how about we pretend you didn't hear that?"
"Fine," I say. "But I'll wail for three days and nights."
"That's too much," he says. "Bad for Fern's education, and for me."
My crying threat genuinely troubles him. Even Himmel feared it once. I feel bad for Fern, but I'm already holding back tears. I want to pretend I heard nothing and sulk in bed, but it's too late.
"Where to start?" Heiter sighs deeply, then begins. "About a year after we defeated the Demon King and parted ways, I got a letter from Himmel."
Pitying me—or something else—he starts talking. It's Himmel's epilogue, a story beginning with his reunion with Aura in the village where Qual was sealed. A tale of a hero who defeated the Demon King, chasing a forgotten dream, and a former Sage of Destruction, the Guillotine, becoming the Scales.
"You're joking," I say. "I can't believe that."
"Not entirely unbelievable," Heiter says. "It's Himmel, after all."
"…True," I say. "He'd do something like that."
"Haha," Heiter laughs. "Nostalgic, isn't it? I was as baffled as you when I read his letter."
"You seem thrilled now," I say. "Quite a change."
"Not at all," he says. "It's just been a while since I've seen that face of yours."
He teases me, enjoying my grimace. What a guy, calling himself a priest. The story is absurd, unbelievable. Yet I can't deny it—Himmel would do it. Anyone who knows him would agree. He has that inexplicable pull.
"But still," I say, "this is impossible. Even for Himmel, there are limits. Fern said Aura's like a mother to her. You know how abnormal that is, right?"
"Did she?" Heiter says. "Well, everyone called Aura 'Mom.'"
"Stop joking," I say.
"Alright," he says.
I silence his nonsense. I said this a month ago—there are things even Himmel can't do. Making a demon seem motherly to a war orphan like Fern? No demon could manage that. Mimicking voices is one thing, but human-demon coexistence? Harder than defeating the Demon King.
"You're right," Heiter says. "She's a heretic among demons. Or rather, she became one. Frieren, Aura's mimicking Himmel."
"Mimicking Himmel?" I say.
"Yes," he says. "She's emulating what 'Himmel would do.' Not exactly, but using his actions as a guide. Though she doesn't seem aware of it."
His answer comes from a direction I hadn't considered. Aura, mimicking Himmel? Unfathomable. "What Himmel would do" is something Heiter, Eisen, and I always think about. And Aura's doing it too?
"Why?" I ask.
"Fifty years living with Himmel," Heiter says. "Over time, acting in ways that suited her survival became natural. Like imprinting in animals."
"Like demons mimicking human speech," I say. "Wait, fifty years?"
"My mistake," he says. "She lived with me in the Holy City too, so not quite fifty."
"That's not an answer," I say.
I catch a jarring word, but he brushes it off. It makes sense, though. Flamme defined demons as beasts that speak. Their nature is animalistic, acting on imprinted behavior without understanding. But that's not enough.
"Let's continue," Heiter says. "Her essence is still demonic—I've confirmed it. But one thing sets her apart: she didn't need to eat humans."
"Because Himmel's command stopped her?" I say.
He anticipates my doubt, revealing a key difference. The core of demonkind is eating humans. Aura was barred from it by Himmel, using her own Azeliese.
"Exactly," Heiter says. "Demons deceive to prey. Without that need, deception becomes unnecessary. She didn't beg for mercy when she could've, speaking honestly instead. She said it's better with those who know demons, but even in daily life, she often spoke her mind."
"It made things tough," he adds with a wry smile.
Heiter's been through it too, likely with Himmel as well. No need to ask. If true, Aura's a heretic among heretics.
"A demon who doesn't lie…" I mutter.
A demon who doesn't eat or deceive humans. Is that still a demon? Something beyond?
"Of course, she's not entirely honest," Heiter says. "Even we humans lie. Another reason is her disposition. Frieren, did you know she's now called 'The Scales,' not 'The Guillotine'?"
"No," I say. "You mentioned that before. What's the difference?"
Heiter explains how Aura became "The Scales," not "The Guillotine," and what it meant.
"A demon judging humans?" I say. "A nightmare."
"Haha," Heiter says. "She said the same. But she enjoyed it, in her way. Her Azeliese reflects her essence. She devoured the Goddess's scriptures and trial texts—more knowledgeable than most priests."
A demon judging humans in the Holy City? A joke. A nightmare. And this boorish priest enabled it—maybe Himmel too. I picture Aura reading human books. Less absurd than her doing housework, but barely.
"That's why she's undemonic," Heiter says. "Demons lack good and evil. She used books as her moral compass. Believe it or not, some in the Holy City revered her over the Goddess."
"Over the Goddess?" I say.
Another shock. In the Holy City, heart of the Goddess's faith, some revered Aura more? I catch my breath. It's not just absurd—there's something undeniable there.
"Yes," Heiter says. "She has no malice. That means impartiality, equality—crucial for trials and faith. As a demon with Azeliese, a superhuman power, it's natural people saw her as divine. Though she found it annoying."
No malice, no guilt, no good or evil—why demons are feared, an impassable wall. Yet it's godlike. Humans seek salvation in such beings—an ironic reality. Only a demon could embody this.
"By the way," Heiter says, "Himmel coined 'The Scales,' and I spread it."
"Typical," I say.
A trivial fact, but so like Himmel—probably thrilled picking her title. He pestered me with nicknames on our journey. I don't care for my demon-given title, but his were worse. "The Scales" is decent by comparison.
But Aura herself is another matter. Making an orphan feel motherly love, outshining the Goddess, ruling a nation—not with Azeliese's undead army, but living followers. If she chose, she could dominate human society instantly. Like—
"Shall I guess what you're thinking?" Heiter says. "You fear Aura could be a second Demon King."
"Typical, boorish priest," I say.
He reads my mind, unnerving in his own way. I'm glad he's an ally.
"We traveled ten years together," he says. "I get your concern. But when Aura arrived, she avoided Fern, not wanting her to misunderstand demons. Was it 'what Himmel would do' or her own choice? I don't know. But Linie, the other demon, doted on Fern, treating her like a sister, even wanting to be called 'big sister.' Fern's too serious for that, so it didn't work. Aura gave up avoiding her after that."
"Really?" I say. "What's Linie like? Fern said she's Himmel's top disciple. True?"
"Eisen knows more," Heiter says. "Ask him. It'll be interesting."
He deftly passes the buck. Probably didn't want to be the only one dragged in—or he's nudging me to Eisen. I get his point, roundabout as it is. I know Heiter a bit.
"So," I say, "you trust her."
"Yes," he says. "Like Himmel, I trust Aura. As a friend."
He trusts her, not just because of Himmel, but as a friend. He's saying I don't need to worry. I can't grasp it.
"But you won't accept that," Heiter says. "Not until you see for yourself."
"Back to square one, huh?" I say. "That was your plan, wasn't it?"
"What do you mean?" he says. "Weren't you going to anyway?"
"…I suddenly don't want to," I say.
"Haha, still so lazy, Frieren," he says. "Might be better for her."
We've circled back to last month's conclusion. All on this priest's palm. The thought depresses me. I want to hole up for decades.
"If meeting's too much," Heiter says, "visit the village where Himmel and Aura lived. Good way to verify my story."
"Where's that?" I ask.
"Where Qual the Wise Elder is sealed," he says. "The seal's weakening. Perfect timing."
"You schemed this," I say.
Far-sighted scheming, indeed. No hiding for me. I want to outwit this priest before he dies, but it seems unlikely.
"That's all I can say," Heiter says. "Basically, it's all Himmel's fault."
"Terribly summed up," I say. "But true."
I agree wholeheartedly. It's all Himmel's fault. But I know—the real culprit is why I'm like this. That's why.
"What's wrong, Frieren?" Heiter asks.
"Heiter… can I wail now?"
I'm at my limit. Enduring this long is a miracle.
"Can't you hold it?" he asks.
"Nope," I say.
"Alright," he says. "I'll take Fern shopping in the Holy City for three days."
"Sorry," I say.
He treats me like a child, as always, and I lean into it. For Fern's education and my dwindling dignity, I'll hold off until they leave.
That marked the end of a month-long pursuit. For three days and nights, the forest outside Strahl echoed with an elven wail even Himmel feared—