Chapter Text
YEAR XXXX, 400 YEARS BEFORE THE HERO'S PARTY
CHOP!
CHOP!
CHOP!
CRACK!
With a deafening groan, the massive tree tilted and came crashing down, slamming into the soft forest floor with a heavy thud. Not even a second later, birds burst from the canopy in startled flocks, their wings scattering leaves into the air. The nearby bushes rustled, accompanied by panicked squeaks and buzzing insects that scattered in every direction to get away from the sudden commotion.
For a few moments, the forest was teeming with the sound of wildlife. Then, just as quickly as it had started, it slowly fell back into silence.
Standing before the fallen tree, and the reason for the temporary unrest, was a lone figure.
He wore a wool shirt that was loose around the holes for the arms and neck with the color of coffee, paired with equally plain trousers that had loose stitching at the seams, looking as if they'd give out any moment.
In his right hand rested an axe with a comically large handle and an equally ridiculous blade. The iron was broad and heavy, the metal shining glamorously under the afternoon sunlight with no traces of deep markings or scratches.
Despite its size, the figure swung it over his shoulder with ease as if it was just a mere walking stick. Stepping forward, his dark boots sinking slightly into the damp dirt, he squatted down and pressed his palm against the fresh wood.
A soft, gentle glow pulsed from his hand not a moment after. Where his skin met the bark, the wood's color instantly deepened, turning a shade darker as the magic seeped in. It wasn't anything new to him, he had already done this plenty of times before. He simply stood up and wiped his hands after the endeavor was finished.
Looking around, the clearing looked like a busy logging site. Dozens of fresh stumps dotted the area, but the logs themselves weren't scattered around. They were next to an unfinished cabin, stacked neatly in triangles.
The cabin itself had its frame mostly finished already. The rough wooden walls had started to form the appropriate height and internal width for a person to comfortably fit any item or furniture within. Beside it stretched a sizable lake whose calm surface reflected the afternoon sunlight. The cabin's doorway faced the water directly, built with the intent to wake up every morning to the sight of the lake.
The wind blew past his face, carrying the scent of the freshly chopped wood and fresh lake water with it. His hair swayed with the breeze as he looked over the cabin, the neatly stacked logs beside it, and the lake beyond. It was a pleasant and peaceful sight.
Yet his expression never changed.
He felt no pride for what he had built, no satisfaction, and no attachment for it.
The view before him should have meant something after all the effort he'd poured into it, but he just didn't care. It made him wonder why he'd even bothered putting in the grueling work. Surely, after spending his time and energy, there should have been some kind of point to it all, right?
He didn't get to ponder that for long. A sudden movement by the treeline caught his attention. Turning his head, his eyes locked onto a figure stepping out from the dense greenery, slowly making her way toward him
He took a moment to look her over. Luscious, golden hair flowed all the way down to her thighs, with four distinct sections tied neatly at the base. She wore a loose white top, pinned in the middle with a green brooch that gave it a nice, stylish touch. Matching white shorts sat comfortably on her waist, and an oversized jacket hung casually off her shoulders.
Her sharp, golden eyes locked onto him, and her pointed ears twitched slightly before her gaze drifted over to the cabin beside him.
Seeing her approach, he stood up straight, leaving the axe in the dirt. "Hello there, friend," he said, keeping his voice casual. "Are you lost?"
For a good half-minute, neither of them said a word. They just stood there and locked eyes, taking each other in. The elf tilted her head, her expression just as blank and unreadable as his.
"Hm. You could've fooled me," she finally said, her tone completely dry. "Had you only focused on magic and nothing else, that is."
She stepped closer, looking up at him with a knowing glint in her golden eyes. "Drop the disguise. No illusion magic works the way you want it to when you're standing in front of me. And though you've become skilled in suppressing your mana, it's ultimately fruitless..."
She paused, her gaze piercing right through him. "...Y/n."
Realizing his cover was completely blown, he let out a sigh, though he hadn't truly felt anything about it, and cut off the flow of his mana fuelling the spell. The air right above his head began to shimmer and warp. Second by second, the illusion melted away and revealed something inhuman.
Two massive, smooth horns, twisting towards the sky like a Markhor's, settled into view on his scalp. They were huge, even by demon standards, yet the weight hadn't even bothered him enough to blink.
"Have you no heart to look even a little bit confused?" Y/n asked the elf before him, his voice as flat and still as a frozen lake.
Before Serie could answer, a large hand descended onto her head.
Pat.
Then another.
Pat.
Y/n gently ruffled her hair, looking surprisingly satisfied with himself. "It seems that whenever it comes to me, you don't have a single drop of mercy for my interests, Serie."
"..."
The elf's eye twitched at the audacity of the action.
"Don't touch my head," Serie said. She slapped his hand away, narrowing her eyes in mild annoyance as she smoothed down her ruined hair. Yet, despite her best efforts to mask it, the faintest tug appeared at the corner of her lips. "Even after thousands of years, your sense of humor is still completely rancid. I'd have expected at least a little dignity from you by now."
"How unfortunate."
Y/n crouched down until they were eye level. With his large horns and imposing frame, the gesture should've looked intimidating. Instead, it somehow made him look strangely earnest.
"Then perhaps I should express my affection differently," Y/n stated.
Serie immediately regretted letting him continue.
"Would you prefer a hug?"
"No."
"A kiss on the cheek?"
"No."
"I could throw you into the sky."
"No."
"It will be a gentle toss."
"No."
"Pretty please?"
"Absolutely not."
Y/n simply nodded at Serie's continuous refusal. His suggestions were genius, if he thought so himself.
"I see. Perhaps I'll create a painting of you, instead?"
Despite the ridiculous options, his face remained entirely blank. His features barely moved, making the teasing remarks sound like they were coming from a corpse.
Serie, entirely unamused, just stared blankly back at the demon. A faint murderous intent came from the elf as mana slowly pooled at the very tip of her finger, making it shimmer. Y/n immediately picked up on it.
"Alright, alright, I concede," he said, quickly standing back up and crossing his arms. He glanced around the clearing, his eyes lingering on the unfinished cabin. "My apologies. I haven't actually finished building my lodging yet, so I don't really have a proper place to host you."
"It's fine. I don't plan on staying the whole day anyway," Serie said, her eyes drifting toward a neat stack of logs nearby. She looked over the fresh tree stumps dotting the clearing, an eyebrow lifting just a fraction. "Why do you even bother doing this by hand? Magic would have finished your home in seconds."
Y/n stared quietly at Serie, a heavy and hollow ache settling in his chest. Yes, magic would have made it quicker. It would have saved him the sweat and fatigue expended on such an endeavor, and the hours that ticked away. But saving time wasn't his goal. Demons had plenty of it, after all.
"It would've been faster with magic," Y/n admitted to her. "But..."
His gaze drifted towards the unfinished cabin once more, to the logs neatly arranged beside the cabin and the stumps, and the axe that dug into the dirt. It was hours of work in plain sight.
A single spell could've felled every tree in the clearing. Another could've shaped the lumber into perfect planks. A third could've assembled the entire cabin before the sun had moved across the sky. The fact that he knew exactly how to do it only made the temptation worse.
"You already know what's my problem, Serie."
Serie remained silent at his words, choosing to listen silently to another of his long-winded explanations. For that, Y/n was grateful. She knew when to keep silent despite her attitude.
Y/n eyes settled on his hands. They looked just like a human's; most of his body did. Despite that, the horns that settled on his head and mana that constantly surged from him was a stark reminder that he wasn't one anymore. The countless years he'd already lived were a testament to that fact, too.
Ever since he'd transmigrated into the world of Frieren, his humanity had been slipping away. A long time ago, he would've complained about the heat, or how his body ached after training non-stop. He would've complained about sleeping too late or waking up too early, or get mad about food that was slightly salty.
However, there was nothing now. There was no discomfort being under a sweltering sun, he never got mildly annoyed by inconveniences anymore, and even exhaustion felt distant. It happened so slowly and imperceptibly that he hadn't noticed until the damage was done.
"When I first arrived in this world, I was excited," Y/n spoke in a steady voice, never changing his tone once during his entire conversation. What looked like a small smile graced his face out of habit, an act he'd ingrained in himself through the years. "Magic was incredible. I spent years learning every spell I could find, and if there was a shortcut, I took it."
"But one day, I realized something..." His gaze lowered, his smile dropped while the wind made his hair sway, "I couldn't remember the last time I felt inconvenienced."
Serie let out a quiet 'hmm' in understanding. It was a story she'd heard over and over again, yet it never failed to make her feel something. She let him continue his ramblings.
Y/n shook his head, his voice growing quiet. "There were other things, too. Fatigue, frustration, excitement, and..." his fingers curled slightly, "even fear had slipped from my understanding."
"As the years passed, they became harder to grasp," his eyes met Serie's, though they were unnervingly stable, unlike a human's when they recalled something precious to them, "I still remember what those feelings are supposed to be, but remembering isn't the same as feeling them."
"I assumed that if I did things the way I used to," His eyes landed on the unfinished cabin, narrowing ever so slightly. "Perhaps I'd remember what being human feels like."
Serie followed his gaze to the cabin. The uncut logs beside it and the uneven boards that comprised the walls felt surprisingly human despite being the results of a demon's actions. There certainly had been countless hours of unnecessary effort put into it.
For a being as powerful as Y/n, the cabin was horribly inefficient. But for him, that was exactly the point of it.
"Tell me, Serie," Y/n took her attention once more, "Am I doing this the wrong way? If I use magic to make it easier, would that be more human?"
Back on Earth, humans didn't have shortcuts like magic. They had to sweat for what they built, so he figured this was his best shot. But if a normal human had the choice, wouldn't they just use magic to make life easier? It was a frustrating dilemma for his analytical demon mind.
"How am I supposed to learn to be human again?" Y/n asked, his voice quiet as he looked at the ancient elf.
Over the thousands of years he'd survived here, he had painstakingly learned how to mimic facial expressions again. He was definitely more animated than the monsters he shared a species with, but he still couldn't quite match the effortless warmth of a real human.
"Can magic even help with that?" Y/n continued, a faint, thoughtful frown pulling at his lips. "I tried using it to fix myself before. It didn't do anything."
Serie remained silent for a long moment, her sharp eyes boring right into Y/n's. Then, a small, amused smile tugged at the corner of her lips, and she shook her head.
"Your stories never cease to amaze me, Y/n. You truly deserve your title as 'The Liar.' You speak as though you lived a lifetime as a human before this one."
Y/n simply stared back at Serie. He didn't really blame her for not believing him, though. He had long since given up trying to convince her. Even when Serie herself had searched through his memories a millennium ago, she had dismissed it instantly, claiming that memories were easily forged or altered with the right spell. To her, he was just a demon with an incredibly elaborate delusion.
It had been the end of that discussion, and every discussion after it. Still, she always listened whenever he brought it up for reasons he never quite understood.
She turned away, letting her gaze drift across the sparkling surface of the lake. The afternoon breeze brushed against her hair, sending strands of gold dancing through the air.
"But I'll indulge your question again, just like before," she said at last. "No, magic cannot help you. If you cannot imagine yourself becoming human, then your efforts will amount to nothing."
Her eyes remained on the horizon, the water reflected the sunlight like a sheet of polished glass. It was undisturbed and calm despite the wind kicking up, "Imagination is the realm of magic. Everything begins there."
Y/n quietly pondered her words. As always, as fruitless as it often felt. It was the same response she always gave whenever they brought up his problem. Then again, if he had been capable of imagining himself human, perhaps he wouldn't have spent thousands of years searching for an answer.
"Still, feel free to keep wasting your time on this stupid, nonexistent problem. I'm sure you'll figure something out," Serie said, her tone dismissive but not entirely unkind.
She crouched down and placed a hand against the soil. Mana flowed from her palm, and her hand glowed with the exact same shimmer that Y/n's had before. A moment later, the ground rumbled while the earth shifted and rose upward. Dirt and stone twisted together to form a vaguely humanoid shape. Within seconds, a golem nearly three meters tall stood before the ancient beings, silently waiting for its instructions.
"To assist with your construction," she added as she stood up and dusted off her hands.
Y/n blinked and looked at the golem, raising an eyebrow. He then looked at Serie, then back to the golem.
"... I thought my problem was stupid?" He questioned the smaller elf.
"It is."
"And nonexistent?" Y/n kept probing her.
"It is."
Y/n nodded slowly. He managed a small, genuine smile. "Hm... thank you, Serie."
For a moment, Y/n's expression softened, completely slipping past him. Most people would have missed the miniscule change in his face, but Serie hadn't. After all, she'd known him for longer than entire civilizations had existed.
Despite refuting everything he believed, and despite insisting that his goal was impossible, she had still come all this way, tracking him down and visiting him out here in the middle of nowhere. And now, she was even helping him continue. Actions spoke louder than words, even for mages.
"Thank you for looking out for me, friend," Y/n repeated out of instinct, surprisingly feeling a warmth in his chest he hadn't felt in an unimaginable amount of time.
Serie looked away, responding almost immediately and defensive with her arms folded, "Hmph. Don't misunderstand. I simply don't want you to have another problem. Perhaps in due time, you'll complain about construction instead."
"But I've never complained about it," Y/n defended himself, though his voice came out flatter than when he thanked her.
"You will," Serie insisted.
"I wouldn't."
"You would, demon," Serie said the last words almost teasingly had it not been for her deadpan expression.
"Hm... perhaps I would," Y/n considered it. Anything was possible, after all.
The rest of the day passed surprisingly quickly. For a pair of beings who had each lived for thousands of years, finding things interesting enough to talk about should have been difficult.
Instead, the opposite happened. One topic led to another, old memories brought up old arguments, and old arguments somehow led to new ones being formed. At one point, Y/n spent nearly thirty minutes insisting that a spell he learned more than eight hundred years ago was perfectly reasonable.
Serie spent thirty one minutes explaining why it had been one of the most idiotic thing she had ever witnessed in her lifetime. Neither yielded on their opinions, the pride of a long-lived species doing its wonder.
The sun slowly drifted across the sky while their conversation continued uninterrupted. The golem Serie had summoned quietly worked in the background, hauling logs and moving the lumber while its creator completely ignored its existence.
Eventually, evening arrived, bathing the surroundings in a deep orange hue. Though Y/n and Serie hadn't noticed it, simply conversing until it was night.
Stars began to appear overhead one by one, their reflections shimmering across the lake's calm surface. The half-finished cabin's walls were slightly taller than when Serie had arrived, but neither had noticed the progress that occurred.
At some point, Serie glanced towards the sky. She paused after a realization struck her, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
Y/n immediately recognized that look of hers. It was one he'd seen plenty of times before back when she was young and not the 'Living Grimorie' she would be known as soon.
"You stayed the whole day," Y/n pointed out.
Serie froze in her spot, the silence serving as an answer for the words that she couldn't utter. Y/n's expression hadn't changed, yet somehow, she could tell that he was enjoying it.
"..."
"..."
"Not. A. Word." Serie warned Y/n.
"You stayed the whole day," Y/n repeated, tilting his head down slightly to look at Serie smugly.
"I said not a word," Serie said, glaring daggers at Y/n. If looks could kill, Y/n would have been dead a hundred times over.
"You specifically said you wouldn't, Elf," Y/n shot back, recalling that she had called him 'demon' earlier in the day.
"I know what I said," Serie retorted, clearly getting irritated by Y/n's continuous teasing. He had started getting under her skin.
The corner of Y/n's mouth twitched upward. It was a movement so tiny and barely noticeable, but it somehow made the situation worse. Serie clicked her tongue when she noticed it.
"I am leaving," she announced to no one else but the demon beside her, mana gathering around her body without warning. The air started being sucked in towards Serie, a telltale sign of teleportation magic.
Y/n waved his hand slowly, keeping it close to his chest, "Safe travels."
Serie looked at him for a brief moment, and for all her complaints, she didn't leave immediately.
"Try not to lose yourself before our next meeting," she threw the words out casually, yet they carried more concern for the demon than she would openly admit.
Y/n's gaze softened, the meaning of her words registering immediately in his mind, "I'll do my best."
Serie nodded, satisfied by his answer. The magic around her intensified, and she vanished just like she was never there. Her disappearance made the clearing fall silent once more. The golem, sensing its creator's presence was gone, began to walk towards the lake. When it finally got into the water, it crumbled back into formless dirt and stone.
Only the sound of the lake and the distant chirping of crickets remained. Y/n stood there for a while, staring at the empty space that she had occupied moments ago. Their meetings were always like this.
There were no grant greetings, no emotional farewells, and no promises about when they would see each other again. For people who measured their lives in millennias, such things felt unnecessary.
Whether it took ten years, a hundred years, or a thousand, they would eventually cross paths again. That much neither of them doubted, and the thought brought a sense of comfort to Y/n.
Y/n turned toward his unfinished cabin and quietly pulled his axe from the ground.
Tomorrow, there would be more work to do.
Author's Note: This fic came from my Wattpad and Quotev and I'm just uploading it here. I blame @tatrocious for forcing me to upload it (Check out her Genshin fic, it's peak).