When Frieren opened her eyes, the night sky stretched above her.
Meteors cut across it in long, luminous arcs. She recognized the clearing. She had stood in it once before, fulfilling a promise that had taken fifty years to keep.
But this time, it wasn't them next to her. It wasn't Himmel's sky blue gaze looking back at her.
The meteors reflected in eyes as dark as midnight — flashing across pale skin, catching the light in a way that made something in Frieren's chest go still and quiet.
Frieren couldn't help but smile. Blue was probably her favorite color.
"I see." Frieren let out a small exhale. "I'm dreaming."
Percia turned her gaze back to the sky. "Is that what you think?"
"Why else would you be here?" The smile came before she could stop it. "I told you to leave."
I shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have hurt you.
The words stayed where they were. There was no point — she was a figment, a projection, something Frieren's sleeping mind had assembled from want. Saying it wouldn't change anything.
"Don't worry, I won't stay for long."
No. Stay. "I suppose not," Frieren said. "Sleep has been avoiding me lately anyway."
"Has it been avoiding you?" Percia watched a firefly settle on her finger, unhurried. "Or have you been avoiding it?"
Frieren didn't answer.
"You don't have to deprive yourself of sleep. It won't happen again."
"You can't know that."
"But I do."
Frieren looked at her. The certainty in it was too concrete for something she'd conjured herself. "What are you trying to tell me?"
"There isn't much more to tell you. You've already figured out most of it." Percia lay back in the grass, tilting her head to look up at Frieren. "I'm just here to make things right."
Frieren was quiet for a moment. Then she reached out and pressed her hand against Percia's cheek.
Warm. Warmer than she'd expected.
"All I need," she said softly, "for things to be right — is for you to actually be here."
Percia didn't answer. She only leaned into the touch, eyes closing.
Frieren lay down beside her, turning onto her side. "So. How are you planning to make things right?"
"Well... It's easier to just show you." Percia reached up and took Frieren's hand, turning it palm-side up.
"You must have noticed — the way you feel here. The awkwardness is gone. That's because this is your mind, and your consciousness dominates here. Whatever misalignment exists between it and your body doesn't reach this place."
Her mana moved, slow and deliberate, tracing up along Frieren's arm. Frieren shivered faintly.
"There are two ways to realign them. The first is to put the body through the same experience as the consciousness." The mana settled at Frieren's neck, her shoulder. "The second is to remove the experience from the consciousness entirely."
Frieren snorted, "If you want to lop my head off, just say it."
"We will be going with the second option." Percia deadpanned.
Frieren couldn't help but laugh — properly, the way she hadn't in days. "I'm just saying. Who am I to assume."
"I should warn you though," Percia said, the faintest shift in her mana, "it won't be entirely comfortable."
"Percia... I've spent thirty-six hours feeling like my head might slide off my shoulders at any moment." Frieren took Percia's hand and laid it against her throat. "I think I'll manage."
Percia's thumb moved across her neck, slow. "You're brave. That's good."
"I'm confused about one thing, though." Frieren frowned slightly. "You're supposed to be something I imagined. My own mind. So how do you know how to treat these symptoms?"
Percia only smiled. She drew Frieren closer, and her lips brushed her forehead — light, brief. Frieren breathed in without thinking.
She had missed her scent.
"Why do you assume," Percia murmured, "that I'm not actually here?"
Frieren went still.
Then it clicked — all of it, at once. The warmth that had been there from the beginning. The mana that was too precise, too present, too real to be anything she'd invented. The way none of it had felt like a dream.
"Don't worry. I won't overstay my welcome."
Mana surged — bright and total.
"Wait—"
And everything went white.
─────────────────────────────────────────────────
Frieren woke with a start.
The priest beside the bed stumbled back, a diagnostic spell dissolving from his fingers. "Ma'am? Are you alright? Um... I'm here on behalf of—"
"Where's Percia?"
He blinked. "I'm sorry, I don't know who—"
Frieren was already out of bed, pulling on her boots. She glanced at the window: barely dawn, the sky still pale at the edges. Good. She couldn't have gone far. She could track her — she had to track her.
Something in Frieren's gut told her that if she didn't do it now, she wouldn't get another chance.
She stood and found the priest between her and the door.
"Move."
"I — I really am sorry, but it wouldn't be safe for you to go out alone. Perhaps if you waited for one of your companions—" He fidgeted with the hem of his robe.
"Move. Don't make me do something I'd rather not."
He flinched. "Please, if you'd just calm down, I'm sure we can work something—"
She didn't bother listening to his words as her fingers flexed slightly. Just a quick spell and he'd be out on the floor. It wouldn't even take a second.
"Frieren-sama?"
The door cracked open. Violet eyes looked through the gap, then at Frieren, then at her hand.
"What are you doing."
Frieren's jaw tightened. "He won't let me leave."
"Ah — young miss, please—" The priest turned gratefully toward Fern. "Perhaps you could explain—"
"Yes, thank you." Fern bowed. "I'll take it from here."
Fern turned to Frieren as the priest hurried out.
Frieren spoke first. "Percia. She's here — where is she?"
Something flickered across Fern's face — uncertainty, and underneath it, something more careful. "...I saw her yesterday. I haven't seen her since. Stark-sama said he asked her to watch over you."
A pause. "I think she left when the priest arrived."
Frieren pushed past her. Fern caught her wrist. "Frieren-sama, what are you trying to do?"
"The priest was still in the middle of his diagnostic when I woke up." Frieren didn't turn. "That means she hasn't been gone long. Let go, Fern."
She could feel Fern frown behind her. "...Just — don't do anything drastic." The words carried a particular weight to them. A reminder as much as a warning.
The grip loosened.
Frieren was already running.
─────────────────────────────────────────────────
"So? Can you dispel it?"
Percia studied the barrier, hand hovering just short of the stone. "Barrier analysis isn't exactly my strength. And this one is — unusual."
It was woven like a cat's cradle — no clear origin point, no visible end, just layer folding into layer into layer. Every gap she found led to another, each one extending the analysis indefinitely. Whoever had built this hadn't been trying to keep people out. They'd been trying to keep people busy; trying to lead them on.
"I'd recommend waiting for Frieren," she said, turning to Fass. "I'm sorry I can't be more useful."
The dwarf shrugged with the ease of someone who had been disappointed before. "Eh. What was I thinking, expecting anything from a passing stranger. Frieren's one of the best there is, after all."
"That she is."
"Welp." Fass pushed himself to his feet. "I'm heading out for breakfast. Hopefully that girl wakes up early today for once." He muttered his way down the path and out of sight.
Percia turned back to the stone.
Milliarde. She read the inscription again, slower.
So that had been her name.
She ran her fingers across the barrier's surface. Milliarde's latent mana rippled beneath her touch — old and strangely warm, with the particular texture of something that had been maintained with care for a very long time.
"You say you're aimless," Percia said quietly, to no one visible. "And yet you linger." She felt the mana shift faintly beneath her hand. "It seems you do have something to anchor yourself to after all."
An image surfaced — brief, unbidden — a blonde elf smiling slight at something. Gone as quickly as it came.
Percia smiled back. "Open the door, Milliarde. Give the dwarf what he wants."
The barrier shuddered. Then, with a sound like a long exhale, it collapsed inward.
A faint voice threaded through her thoughts — not quite sound, not quite memory.
I'm glad it caught your attention for a little while. The tone was warm, almost amused. Did you really think I was going to let you run from her?
Percia's eyes widened slightly. "You—"
Quiet footsteps approached from behind. A familiar mana signature followed, no longer dulled by the barrier's lingering energy.
No more running. Milliarde's voice was gentle, unhurried. Let her speak. Who knows — you might hear something you've been waiting to hear for a very long time.
Small hands caught the edge of her sleeve, binding her to the cavern.
The one behind her was still breathing hard, struggling to catch her breath.
"Percia." A swallow. "Please stay."