Chapter 42 (42) Never Thought I’d See You Again, Linie: 03

At the gates of the village, Frieren walked and saw three figures waiting for her. The snow had stopped falling for the moment, but the ground was still white, and the air was cold enough to turn breath into small clouds. The village gates stood open behind them, two wooden doors reinforced with iron bands that had seen better decades.

Sein stood with his baggage slung over one shoulder, a worn leather bag that looked like it had traveled further than its owner. A thin trail of smoke rose from the cigarette between his fingers. He looked relaxed, almost bored, but his eyes were alert, watching the road ahead.

Kraft stood beside him, his hands tucked into his sleeves, his posture calm and steady. He did not shiver. He did not stamp his feet to keep warm. He simply stood there like the cold was a distant concern that did not apply to him.

The young cheftess stood in front of them both, her small frame wrapped in a thick coat that made her look like a lump of wool with a face. She bounced on her heels, partly from the cold and partly from the energy that seemed to live inside her.

Frieren approached, her boots crunching against the frozen ground. She carried her staff in one hand and her bag in the other. Her silver hair moved gently in the wind, catching the pale light of the morning sky.

The cheftess ran toward her and stopped just short of crashing into her legs. She looked up, her cheeks red from the cold, her eyes wide.

"Frieren sama! You are really leaving?" she asked. Her voice carried the kind of disbelief that only a child could produce, as if the idea of someone choosing to walk away from her village was personally offensive.

Frieren looked down at her. The girl's coat had slipped off one shoulder, and she pulled it back into place without seeming to notice. Her braid had come loose on one side, and strands of hair stuck out at odd angles.

"I must," Frieren said. "I see no other good option at the moment."

The cheftess frowned. She crossed her arms, which made her look like a very small and very annoyed owl. "But you just got here. You did not even stay for dinner. I made stew. The good kind with the thick gravy."

Frieren's expression did not change, but something in her eyes softened. "Another time," she said.

The cheftess did not look convinced, but she nodded anyway. She stepped back and stood beside Kraft, her arms still crossed, her frown still firmly in place.

Kraft spoke. His voice was low, thoughtful, the voice of someone who had spent a long time thinking about things that most people never bothered to consider. "I can do nothing to stop you," he said. "The thing which has happened is unprecedented." He paused, looking out at the white hills beyond the gate. "I wonder what the Megami is thinking. Why would she create such a paradox?"

Frieren nodded slowly. "Exactly," she said. "I need answers. And if possible, a solution."

Kraft turned to look at her. His green eyes were calm, but there was something behind them, a weight, a history that he did not often show. "Well, I am not going to stop you. But remember, if something happens to you, Fern and Stark will be really upset."

Frieren looked down at the ground for a moment. The snow had been trampled by dozens of boots over the past few days, leaving a messy pattern of tracks that led in and out of the village. She traced one of the lines with her eyes, following it to the gate, then beyond, to the road that disappeared into the white distance.

"I know," she said.

The cheftess stepped forward again, her small hand reaching out to tug at Frieren's sleeve. "Good luck," she said. Her voice was softer now, less demanding. "Come back, okay? I will save you some stew."

Frieren looked down at the girl. She reached out and patted her head, a gentle touch, quick and light. "I will try," she said.

The cheftess smiled, nodded, and stepped back to stand beside Kraft.

Sein took a long drag from his cigarette and blew the smoke out through his nose. The gray cloud drifted up and disappeared into the cold air. He looked at Frieren, then at the road, then back at Frieren.

"You done?" he asked.

Frieren turned to him. Her expression was flat, but there was a hint of annoyance in the way she held her shoulders. "You are the one tagging along," she said. "Do not act like the leader here."

Sein grinned. It was the kind of grin that said he knew exactly what he was doing and did not care what anyone thought about it. "I am the mature adult here, elf."

Frieren's eye twitched. "I am over a millennium old."

Sein waved his hand dismissively, the cigarette still burning between his fingers. "But in elf terms, you are still a kid. A teenager, maybe. A very old teenager, but still a teenager." He poked his own chest with his thumb. "Me? I am a full fledged adult. I do counselling in the church. I vote in local elections. I have strong opinions about the best way to fold a fitted sheet."

Frieren stared at him. "What is a fitted sheet?"

Sein paused. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "You know what, that is not important right now. Let us just move."

He turned and started walking, his boots leaving deep prints in the snow. His bag bounced against his back with each step, and the smoke from his cigarette trailed behind him like a thin gray ribbon.

Frieren watched him go for a moment. Then she shook her head and followed.

The blizzard had not returned, but the wind was still strong, pushing against them as they walked. The snow on the ground was deep in some places and shallow in others, forcing them to pick their steps carefully. The road, if it could even be called a road, was little more than a track that had been packed down by years of travelers. In some spots, it was barely visible beneath the fresh snow.

Sein walked ahead, his shoulders hunched against the cold, his breath coming out in short puffs. He did not complain. He did not ask how far they had to go. He just kept walking, one foot in front of the other, steady and determined.

Frieren walked beside him, her staff tapping against the ground with each step. Her silver hair was pulled back, tucked under her hood, but strands of it escaped and whipped across her face in the wind. She did not bother to push them away.

The village shrank behind them, the wooden houses turning into small shapes, then into specks, then into nothing. The world around them became a stretch of white and gray, the hills rolling away in every direction like frozen waves.

Sein glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "So," he said, "are you going to tell me where we are going, or are we just walking until we find something interesting?"

Frieren did not look at him. "North," she said.

Sein blinked slowly. "North. That is specific."

"It is a direction."

"It is a very broad direction."

Frieren shrugged. "We will know when we get there."

Sein sighed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out another cigarette, then thought better of it and put it back. "You are an annoying brat," he said.

"I have been told that before," Frieren said.

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