Chapter Text
"Human apprentices should not be taken after all." Serie looks down at the gravesite with a distant gaze, her expression ever-neutral. "It truly is unfortunate."
"What other apprentices should be taken if not humans?"
"Certainly not an elf like you."
"Master would beg to differ."
"Hmph."
The two elves stand in silence, side by side. Whether it is to remember something long forgotten or bear witness to someone far past, it hardly matters.
There is no magic in the world that can change this scene. There is no spell or grimoire that will alter this reality.
Both of them know this. And neither can visualize anything but the fate that will eventually befall those of their kind.
After all, they have experienced it countless times throughout their lives.
"I wish she would have taken my offer back then. It's a shame she had to turn out like you."
Frieren smiles. "And yet, Master turned out to be nothing like you. She exceeded your expectations as well, didn't she?"
"She was also an exception, of course. It was probably why I decided to indulge her in the first place."
As with all mages, Serie has eyes for those who show potential. It is why she disparages Frieren so for having both the talent and lifespan to realize that potential, yet lack the ambition to pursue those heights.
She is utterly hopeless.
"People come and go. Humans will live and die," Serie says. "But I doubt there will ever be anyone else like her."
At least none who sees her like she does.
Frieren kneels on top of the flowerbed that surrounds the two headstones where both her Master and apprentice lay. Two souls separated by millennia now rest together for their remaining eternity.
"Yeah. You're probably right."
The wind picks up and her hair billows in the gentle breeze.
"What will you do now?" Serie asks.
Frieren brushes her fingers across the stone, imagining the sensation of a little girl's head.
"I will do what I have always done," she says. "I will remember."
Serie gazes at the sky. "I see."
She turns around before pausing, glancing back. "For such an asinine spell, it's quite a fitting way to memorialize them."
To conjure these blooming flowers with their fleeting beauty, their swaying petals and delicate buds, this, Frieren thinks, is the height of her magic.
It is her way of honoring those whose paths have crossed, entangled, and intertwined with hers. It is all she can do for them now.
"Have you ever regretted it?" Frieren asks. "Your apprentices..."
"Don't misunderstand. The two of us differ in that regard," she says. "I am merely curious to see how far humans can go and how much their kind can achieve during their short fitful lives."
Serie crouches down and twirls a flower between her fingers. "Part of me wonders if that girl didn't leave me with all of these children just to constantly spite me after her death. Cheeky brat."
She tosses the flower, letting it fall to the ground. "It is only natural, after all. That is their fate. And this is ours."
"Does it ever go away?" Frieren asks.
"Will you ever forget them?"
"No," she says. "Not as long as I live."
"Then that is your answer."
Frieren stands up, smiling. "I see."
Serie walks off. "Don't forget, you're still banned from the Continental Magic Association for at least nine centuries."