Chapter Text
Wisps of steam rose from the cup of tea on the desk in a lavish office, the occupant standing behind the desk with his face to the window, observing the magical city of Äußerst with quiet contentment. His dark hair short and clean-shaven, he cut an impressive figure, something that would have sent any woman’s heart a-flutter. At least, that is what Sense tells herself as she enters the office, her heart sent into quite the state, especially when he turns to look at her, “Sense, I am always pleased to partake in your company, but you usually don’t look so perturbed. Did Mistress Serie test your patience?”
Sense’s face flushed slightly, of course his first concern was her, it always has been and seems to always will be, “No, nothing so dramatic, Regen.” she replied, carefully controlling her voice to let none of her inner turmoil out, “Merely concerned about the next series of Exams.”
Regen sighed, knowing exactly what she would be referring to, “Genau’s exams always leave much to be desired, that much I will admit.” he replied, taking his seat and cup into his hand, “But it always gets approved because Mistress Serie does not wish for the unworthy to be considered for the Second Stage.”
Sense frowned, knowing full well Regen’s own issues with the examinations put forth by their colleague, to say nothing of the issues with the mage himself. It was a small part of why her own examinations were structured as they were. “But, we have half a year before the Exam,” he finally said, peering into his tea cup as if it held long forgotten wisdom, “We can only hope that my juncture will find our Mistress in good humours.”
Sense shut her eyes, “You know that will never happen, much for the very reason you already stated.” she replied, “Though I find it strange: You have been a First-Class Mage as long as I, and yet, you have never once been asked to or allowed to proctor one Exam.”
Regen smiled, “Because I run so counter to her personality. You didn’t, not at first.”
Despite his tone being that of soft praise at her ability to change, Sense could not help the subtle flinch at that pronouncement. She hadn’t been that different to Mistress Serie, not until after a year of killing, almost non-stop, and using her reward more than she had ever expected to for her entire life. Sometimes she could still smell the smoke, the blood, hear the screams. She was so caught up in her memories that she didn’t realise that he had set down his tea and crossed the room to her until he wrapped her in a warm embrace, one she readily returned. They stayed like that for a while before, eventually, Regen pulled back ever so slightly, “My duties are done for the day, if you’d like to stay a while, or longer,” he whispered, question in the air, unvoiced, perhaps even unknown to him.
Sense’s lips twitched; honestly, everyone at the Äußerst location either knew, in the case of Lernen, or suspected, in the case of everyone else, that Sense’s relationship with Regen might be more than professional. Though thankfully, none make comments about it if they do know, especially in Regen’s presence. “Careful, Regen, or you might be accused of spoiling me.”
Regen had a smirk running on full blast when he pulled back in full, “Spoiling my best friend? I am guilty as charged. What punishment is there for such a crime?”
Friend.
The word hit against Sense’s heart harder than a well-aimed boulder from a trebuchet, though she did not let it visibly affect her. Friend was all he could see her as, and Friend would have to be the best she got, despite the candle she held for him raging like an uncontrollable wildfire. But, outwardly, she maintained the back and forth they always got into, “Your punishment?” she mused as she followed him into his attached quarters, “I do believe you should be punished most severely. You are sentenced to brush my hair,” she threw back.
Regen chuckled, “If that is the severe punishment for the crime, I might have to commit the crime more often,” he replied, gesturing grandly to a stool in front of a mirrored vanity and bowing. “Your stylist awaits any special instruction, Milady.”
Sense chose not to say anything, merely smiling and sitting on the offered stool. While Regen worked meticulously with her hair, she could, as she often did, imagine this scene happening every night. Sometimes, if her imagination was feeling particularly inventive, she would then imagine him leading her to bed and instead of taking the couch or the spare bedroom, that he wouldn’t let go and would pull himself close to her. Sure, that may be where her fantasies end, due to the most intimacy she ever experienced being Regen doing everything within his power to keep her warm when they first made their trip to Äußerst all those years ago, but she was not a naive girl; she knew what she desired from him. And despite all of her logic and practical knowledge, there was some part of her which wondered: Would Regen really be brushing her hair whenever she asked him if there wasn’t something more?
The morning brought a crick to his neck and a general sense of concern when he saw Sense curled into such a tight ball in his bed, but there was a small, contented smile on his face that could not be denied. A small part of him, no, actually, scratch that, a large part of him wanted nothing more than to pull back the covers slightly so he could hold her close as she slept. But, he supposed, that was the part of him that had always loved her, ever since they were children growing up in the south. Back then, he supposed, they both may have played at being Frieren the Slayer whenever the other children roped them into playing Heroes with them, but, if the rumours were true, then he was more like Himmel the Hopeless with her, and she was Frieren the Beauty.
Though right now, she was more like Frieren the Sleepy. Her hair, naturally, or perhaps she was using her mana to manipulate it in her sleep, covered her eyes to protect her from the harsh sunlight that spilt in through the windows. And despite Regen’s own desires to let her rest, he gently walked over and shook her, “Time to wake, sleepyhead,” he whispered.
Sense moaned, it may well be closer to midday than midnight, but she wanted to stay here forever; it was the closest she ever got to her dreams. But she betrayed herself and forced herself to wake and start on the day.
In her grogginess, however, she did not notice the face that Regen made: almost mournful in a way, as if something was causing him regret. If their friend Lernen or even if Serie had seen the two of them, they might have said something. Be it that people closest to a matter are often the blindest, in Lernen’s case, or that Frieren is not the only one who can be incredibly obtuse when it comes to romance in Serie’s. There was a reason that rumours persisted, though not all of them made their way to Sense’s ears. Those that did were often the tame ones; stolen kisses, hugs that went on for longer than was normally socially acceptable for friends, or the fact that Regen did spoil Sense. What failed to reach Serie’s Secretary’s ears, however, were stories, regardless of how fabricated they were or how there was no evidence to support them, about secret rendezvous in the gardens, hiding from Serie’s supposed disapproval, or the unusual pattern of sleeping habits and arrangements of the soft-spoken pair.
And yet, the wheels of time stop for no one. And they would find that they would have to confront themselves. Far sooner than they would have liked.
Notes on the running of the Äußerst Facility.
Transcripts of a letter from First-Class Mage Lernen to High Mage Serie and her reply, Early Spring, 29 years after the Death of Himmel the Hero and 79 since the Defeat of the Demon King.
Mistress,
Preparations proceed apace for this year’s First-Class Mage Examination. The townsfolk prepare with their usual restrained enthusiasm for the event, only really looking forward to the coin that will no doubt fill their purses by its conclusion. To that end, I have noticed that one of the Shopkeepers, a man by the name of Richter, who owns the repair shop here, has put in an application for the test and was wondering if you had any special instructions regarding his entry.
Our little side-project, on the other hand, proceeds frustratingly slowly. I observed no fewer than 37 separate occasions where the targets engaged in behaviour befitting a pair well into their courtship. That was throughout yesterday morning alone, I might add. The first real day after the Lady’s return to Äußerst. I am just about at my wits’ end with them and beg for permission to lock them in a room until they come to terms with each other.
Respectfully Yours (and somehow still sane)
Lernen
Lernen,
I suspect as much concerning the townsfolk, though it is of no matter. Both the Association and the town prosper thanks to the exams. Regarding Richter… I would appreciate it if he could be talked out of it. Genau’s Exam will involve them capturing Stilles in the forests near the small lake, and I would not appreciate it if the best repair and oddities shop in Äußerst were to close because its owner died. However, if his heart is set, let him take the exam; we will just have to pray that he either succeeds or, at the very least, fails in such a way that he is not mortally wounded or killed. Though if he can pass Genau’s test, then he should have no problems passing the remaining ones.
In regard to our side-project… permission denied. Though I only deny it because I am not there personally to oversee the locking of them together, as I am sure that Regen can pick his way out of anywhere, and I desire to see them come to terms personally, should intervention be required on our behalf. And because I can feel your gaze even as I write this, I would only tell them “About time” about once every week for the next hundred years. Even you have to admit that would be incredibly restrained on my part. And 37 times just that morning? Lernen, did you at least finish breakfast before writing that letter, or did you leave partway through?
Regardless, should the situation not be resolved by the completion of this year’s examinations, you have permission to send for me. I have no intention of seeing the same despair on my most promising apprentices that I see every time that I imagine seeing Frieren, especially if some of the books written on the “Heroes’ Party” are closer to truth than fiction. How she just disappeared for fifty years is cold, even coming from a fellow Elf. I feel bad for poor Himmel the Hero. And I suspect that everyone, even they, will be glad of it when they finally start courting.
It must be driving you and the others mad. But they have, at most, six months to sort it out themselves, then your torture will be over.
As Always
Serie