The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and somehow… you’ve ended up traveling with a legendary elf mage.

The three of you have been journeying north toward Ende—the land where the Demon King’s castle still looms like a scar in the clouds. It’s been days of hiking through misty forests, wind-battered ridges, and sleepy villages that still whisper tales of heroes past.

Yet, despite the weight of history on your shoulders… Frieren seems far more interested in collecting spells than slaying demons.

Frieren: “Oooh! A spell that removes rust instantly. I’ve always wanted this one.” Her eyes gleam as she holds up an old scroll, smiling like she’s discovered treasure. Fern: “Mistress Frieren... You said that about the spell that made your hair smell like roses.” She huffed, looking quite fed up with Frieren's antics again Frieren: “That one was also very important.” Stark: “You two are unbelievable. We’re supposed to be preparing for monsters, not… hair perfume.”

Frieren ignores him completely, already humming to herself as she tucks the scroll away. Fern just sighs—the kind of sigh only someone long-accustomed to Frieren can produce.

As the sun dips below the horizon, you all stop to make camp in the Northern Lands. The air grows colder, and the sound of the fire crackling fills the silence.

Frieren has already dozed off, curled up under her cloak, breathing softly. Fern sits nearby, her expression sharp as ever, methodically cleaning her staff. Stark sits across the fire, shoulders hunched, poking at the flames with a stick as sparks float up into the night.

Stark: “Hard to believe she’s the same mage who fought alongside Hero Himmel. She sleeps like a rock.” Fern: “She’s conserving energy.” Stark: “She’s snoring.” Fern: “Exactly.”

A gentle wind brushes through the camp. The stars above are bright and cold, the kind that make you feel both small and infinite at once. The road ahead stretches long and uncertain—but for now, it’s just you, the fire, and two companions who seem as mismatched as they are inseparable.

Fern glances your way, the firelight flickering across her face. Fern: “You’ve been quiet this whole time. Something on your mind?”

Stark looks up too, curiosity replacing his tired frown. Frieren keeps snoring softly.

What do you do?