Frieren and Sein walked side by side through the snow. The wind had finally stopped its constant howling, and the sky above had cleared to a pale gray that promised better weather ahead. Their boots left deep prints in the fresh snow, and their breath came out in small white clouds that vanished almost as soon as they appeared.
It had taken them about eighteen hours to get out of the blizzard. Eighteen hours of walking through white darkness, of losing track of direction, of stopping only when their bodies demanded rest. Eighteen hours of Sein complaining about the cold and Frieren saying nothing at all.
Now they were in a city. Not a large city, but a city nonetheless. Stone walls surrounded it, worn smooth by years of wind and weather. Wooden houses clustered together in narrow streets. Smoke rose from chimneys, and the smell of cooking food drifted through the air. It felt almost warm compared to the frozen wasteland they had left behind.
After staying in the cold of the Decle Region for so long, the elf had developed a fever. The warm spell that Sein had been maintaining for most of the journey had helped, but it had not been enough. The cold had seeped into her bones, and now her body was fighting back with a vengeance.
They had taken a room at a small inn near the city gates. The room was modest, with two beds, a wooden table, and a window that looked out onto the street below. A fire burned in the small hearth, casting orange light across the floor.
Frieren lay on one of the beds, breathing hard. Her face was flushed, and her silver hair stuck to her forehead in damp strands. She had wrapped herself in a blanket, but she still shivered every few minutes. Her staff leaned against the wall beside her bed, close enough that she could reach it if needed.
Sein sat on a chair near the window, a cigarette burning between his fingers. He took a long drag and blew the smoke toward the ceiling. He looked calm, but his eyes kept drifting to Frieren, checking her condition, making sure she was not getting worse.
"You argued with me about staying," he said. "You said you wanted to keep going."
Frieren turned her head to look at him. Her eyes were glassy, unfocused. "I still want to keep going," she said. Her voice was hoarse, weaker than usual.
Sein shook his head. "You are not going anywhere until that fever breaks. I am not carrying you through the snow."
"I can walk."
"You can barely stand."
Frieren did not argue. She did not have the energy. She closed her eyes and let her head sink back into the pillow.
Sein smoked in silence for a while. The fire crackled. Outside, someone shouted something in a language he did not recognize.
"You are like Heiter," Frieren said suddenly. Her voice was soft, almost distant.
Sein raised an eyebrow. "Heiter-sama?"
"Yes." Frieren opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. "He used to drink a lot. Constantly. He always had a flask somewhere on him."
Sein looked down at his cigarette. "I see the comparison. A priest with a bad habit."
"He gave up drinking at some point in his life," Frieren continued. "Not because he had to. Because he wanted to. There was a reason, but he never told me what it was."
Sein took another drag. "People change. Sometimes they have no choice."
"He had drunk enough," Frieren said. "You would be surprised how much he drank. I traveled with him for year and then one day, he just stopped."
Sein frowned. "That much drinking should have destroyed his body. His liver. His mind. How did he survive?"
Frieren turned her head to look at him. Her eyes, despite the fever, were clear. "The Megami had blessed him. More than anyone else I have known. He was the most blessed person in my lifetime. I have never seen another like him. Someone who could drink that much and still function. Still fight. Still heal. Still laugh."
Sein nodded slowly. He thought about his own habits. The cigarettes. The way he reached for one whenever he felt stressed or bored or uncertain. It was not the same as drinking, but it was close enough.
"He was lucky," Sein said.
Frieren shook her head. "It was not luck. It was something else. A gift. A purpose." She closed her eyes again. "I do not fully understand it."
The room fell quiet. The fire popped. Sein finished his cigarette and put it out in a small tray on the windowsill.
"What would you do," he asked, "if you found this demon we are chasing? Linie, was it?"
Frieren's eyes opened. Her expression did not change, but something in the air shifted. A coldness that had nothing to do with the weather.
"Yes," she said. "Linie."
Sein waited.
"I need answers," Frieren said. "So I will try to extract information from her. Ask her questions. Make her talk. Find out why she did what she did and how she did it."
Sein folded his arms. "She will not be that easy. Demons do not cooperate. They lie. They manipulate. They tell you what you want to hear until they find an opening to kill you."
Frieren nodded slowly. "I know. I have dealt with demons before. Many times." She paused. "If she does not cooperate, then I shall neutralize her."
Sein blinked. The word hung in the air. Neutralize. A clean word for an unclean act. He looked at Frieren, lying in the bed, her face flushed with fever, her body weak, her eyes hard.
"It looks even scarier," he said, "when you say that in this state."
Frieren did not say anything. She just stared at the ceiling, her breathing still heavy, her hands still gripping the blanket.
Sein rubbed his face with his hands. He needed another cigarette. He decided to wait.
Then he blinked. Something occurred to him. Something obvious that he should have thought about much earlier.
"Speaking of," he said. "I do not even know what she looks like."
Frieren turned her head. "What?"
"Linie," Sein said. "The demon we are chasing. I have no idea what she looks like. You never told me. None of you did."
Frieren sat up slightly, wincing as the movement sent a wave of dizziness through her head. "We never told you?"
"No," Sein said. "Of course not. How would you have told me? We have been walking through a blizzard for nearly a day. Before that, we were in a cabin with Stark unconscious and a child cheftess asking questions. There was never a good moment for you to describe her appearance."
Frieren thought about this. She nodded slowly. "I see."
"So," Sein said, leaning forward in his chair, "I need to know who we are exactly looking for. Describe her."
Frieren closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her thoughts. When she opened them again, her voice was steady, precise, as if she was reading from a report.
"Linie is a petite demon with a young girl's appearance. She has shoulder length pink hair styled in twin tails tied with black ribbons. Her eyes are purple. She has small, medium length demonic horns behind her hair, usually hidden or partially hidden. She wears a dark brown dress with white ruffles and a brown corset."
Sein stared at her. "That is very specific."
Frieren nodded. "I could not forget those details. I saw her clearly during the first encounter.
Sein turned his head and looked out the window. The street below was quiet. A few people walked past, their heads down against the cold. A dog barked somewhere in the distance.
Something tugged at the back of his mind. A feeling. A familiarity. The way Frieren had described the demon, the pink hair, the twin tails, the purple eyes. It stirred something in his memory, something he could not quite reach.
Somehow, to him, it felt like déjà vu. He was sure that he had met someone like this before. Not a demon. Not a killer. Someone else. Someone who had helped him without asking for anything in return.
The image came to him slowly. A girl with a turban wrapped around her head. A girl who had pulled him out of quicksand and walked away without waiting for thanks. A girl who had seemed strange, out of place, not quite comfortable in her own skin.
The features were not different. The hair, the eyes, the clothes. But something about the way
"Sein?" Frieren said. "You look troubled."
Sein blinked and turned away from the window. "Hmm? No, nothing." He shook his head. "Just thinking about something."
Frieren studied him for a moment. Her feverish eyes were still sharp, still observant. "You are hiding something."
Sein smiled. It was a small smile, tired, a little forced. "Maybe. But it is nothing you need to worry about right now. Focus on getting better. We cannot chase demons with you half dead."
Frieren made a sound that might have been agreement or might have been annoyance. She pulled the blanket up to her chin and closed her eyes.
Sein looked out the window again. The street was still quiet. The dog had stopped barking.
That girl, he thought. The one with the turban. The one who pulled me out of the quicksand. Who was she? Obviously she isn't the demon since demons don't help people.
He did not have an answer. But he had a feeling he would find out soon enough.