The air was crisp when they stepped out of Eisen's home, morning light painting the hills in soft gold. Naru walked a step behind Frieren, carrying a bundle of supplies almost as big as herself. Eisen adjusted the straps of his pack with a grunt, and soon the three of them were making their way down the dirt path that wound toward the open plains. Birds chirped overhead, and the smell of damp grass lingered in the air.
By midday, they had set up camp beside a clear stream. Eisen was tending to the fire while Naru crouched by the water, her orange ribbons swaying in the breeze as she tried to spot fish. Frieren sat on a rock, legs crossed, looking perfectly content to let the others work. "You could help, you know," Eisen muttered at her. Frieren replied without looking at him, "I'm supervising."
Naru, armed with a sharpened stick, made her first attempt at catching a fish. She jabbed into the water with unhurried precision, and when she pulled the stick out, a silver-scaled fish was skewered at the tip. "Naru caught it," she said simply, showing Frieren like a child bringing home a trophy. Frieren gave a faint smile, which for her was practically beaming.
The next morning found them trekking across a low valley where the grass brushed their knees. A herd of deer spotted them from a distance, ears twitching before bolting away. Naru stopped to watch them run, tilting her head slightly. "Fast," she murmured. Eisen chuckled. "Too fast for dinner." Frieren only glanced at the animals and kept walking, her cloak fluttering with each step.
When the wind picked up in the afternoon, they had to shout to hear each other. Eisen led them along a rocky ridge, the valley stretching endlessly below. Naru's horns caught the sunlight, glinting faintly as she steadied Frieren's arm against the stronger gusts. "You'll blow away, Frieren-sama," she said with deadpan seriousness. Frieren chuckled quietly, letting herself be steadied.
One evening, they decided to try hunting for something bigger than fish. Eisen tracked the faint signs of a wild boar, while Naru followed in silence, eyes sharp despite her calm demeanor. When they finally found it, Eisen hurled a spear with swift precision. The meat would last them days. Frieren handled the cooking that night, the savory smell curling into the starry air.
They passed through a narrow gorge, the walls high and shadowed. Water trickled down from unseen cracks, making the path damp. Naru stepped carefully, her boots leaving faint imprints in the mud, while Frieren occasionally glanced up as if expecting the rocks themselves to start speaking. Eisen's heavy footsteps echoed, his voice carrying easily as he explained how the gorge connected two old trade routes.
In the highlands, the world opened into a carpet of wildflowers. Naru slowed to match Frieren's pace, the two of them walking side by side while Eisen scouted ahead. The petals brushed against Naru's stockings, leaving specks of yellow and pink. Frieren bent to pluck a pale blue flower, tucking it absentmindedly into Naru's hair without a word.
Rain caught them unexpectedly one afternoon. They set up a makeshift tarp between two leaning boulders, sitting close around a small fire. The smell of damp earth filled the space, and Naru sat quietly, her chin resting on her knees, watching the raindrops ripple in a puddle outside. Frieren, wrapped in her cloak, glanced at her and murmured, "It's peaceful, isn't it?" Naru nodded once.
When the weather cleared, they raced the setting sun to find a good spot for camp. Eisen moved quickly, striding ahead, while Frieren took her time. Naru jogged back and forth between them like a loyal but slightly distracted herding dog, making sure no one lagged too far behind. By the time they stopped, the horizon burned orange and pink.
On one of the final days before they reached the basin, they camped near a wide lake. The moon hung low, scattering silver light across the water. Naru sat at the edge, dipping her fingers in the cold surface, while Frieren stood behind her, looking out toward the horizon. Eisen was tending to the fire, his silhouette a steady anchor against the still night. There was no rush in their movements, no weight in their words—only the quiet rhythm of traveling together toward a place that might hold memories older than any of them could count.
Eisen sat on a fallen log, sharpening his axe while Naru crouched beside him, her eyes fixed on the blade like it was some ancient relic.
"You know," Eisen said slowly, not looking up, "an axe is more than a tool. It's an extension of the warrior's will."
Naru tilted her head, thinking. "So… if Naru eats a lot of meat, will axe also be stronger, 'ttebayo?"
Eisen huffed, shaking his head. "That's… not how it works. But sure, if you think that'll help."
The next day, Naru brought him a plate piled high with fish. "For axe," she said seriously.
They were crossing a windy ridge when Eisen muttered absentmindedly, "Wind is the voice of the earth."
Naru stopped walking. Her short blonde ponytails swayed as she stood in the gusts, eyes narrowing.
"What is wind telling Naru? Naru cannot understand."
Eisen chuckled under his breath. "It's telling you to keep walking before you freeze."
Naru blinked and nodded as if he'd just revealed an ancient truth. "Wind is very wise."
While hunting, Eisen showed her how to track deer prints. "You can tell how recent they are by the sharpness of the edges."
Naru crouched, staring hard at the dirt. "This one… looks fresh. Maybe an hour ago."
Eisen's eyebrows rose. "Not bad. You learn fast."
Naru puffed her cheeks. "Naru just looked like Eisen-sama does."
One night by the campfire, Eisen was telling an old war story, his deep voice rumbling in the dark. Naru leaned forward, wide-eyed.
"And then," Eisen finished, "we realized the enemy wasn't retreating—they were circling."
Naru's hands tightened on her knees. "What happened next?"
"I took a nap."
"You slept in middle of battle!?"
Eisen smirked. "It worked, didn't it?"
They stopped by a shallow stream to refill waterskins. Eisen tested the water with his hand. "Cold. Good for drinking."
Naru copied him exactly, crouching and dipping her fingers in. "Cold. Naru approves."
Eisen raised an eyebrow. "You don't have to approve the water."
"Naru approves anyway."
Eisen tossed her an apple during a short break. She caught it awkwardly and bit into it without thinking.
"An apple tastes different if you eat it during a journey," Eisen said.
Naru paused mid-bite. "Yes… it tastes more… apple."
Eisen laughed. "Sure. Let's go with that."
On the third day, they came across a wide field dotted with wildflowers. Eisen slowed, glancing around. "This place is quiet. Too quiet."
Naru squinted, scanning the horizon. "Quiet means… monster is hiding?"
"Sometimes," Eisen said. "Sometimes it means nothing at all."
Naru nodded. "Naru will hit 'nothing' just in case."
While repairing her boots, Eisen muttered, "Leather wears out faster if you neglect it."
Naru sat beside him, swinging her legs. "Then Naru must care for leather like… like caring for horn?"
Eisen looked at her for a long moment before chuckling. "I suppose so. Both protect you."
They were foraging for berries when Eisen pointed to a bush. "That one's safe. The others will make you sick."
Naru picked from the safe bush, then eyed the dangerous ones. "What if Naru eats those to test her strength?"
"Then I'll be digging your grave by evening."
Naru blinked. "Naru will not test her strength."
At sunset, they stood on a cliff overlooking the valley they had crossed. The wind tugged at their clothes.
Eisen murmured, "Travel teaches patience."
Naru crossed her arms, watching the horizon. "Naru has patience. Naru waited three days for breakfast once."
Eisen glanced at her. "That's… not what I meant, but alright."