Ending of One Story, Beginning of Another

Somewhere, within a barren wasteland, stands a female mage with long white hair and cold green eyes. Her pointed ears twitched as she heard several footsteps nearing her direction.

Before long, an army of demonic soldiers appeared, their grotesque appearances silhouetted against the bleak horizon. Their horned heads and crooked bodies moved in unison, all intent on wiping her from existence.

At the heart of the battalion stood the Demon God, a towering figure with emerald green hair, his expression unnervingly serene despite the chaos around him.

"You came all this way on your own, huh?" he commented mischievously. "Do you really miss me that much, Slayer?"

"No," the elf replied coldly, raising her staff with murderous intent. "I came here to slaughter you and every last one of your kind."

With that response, the demon god raised his hand forward amusingly, signaling his soldiers to charge at her. As the malicious horde surged forward, the elf closed her eyes, her fingers tightening around her staff, and with a whisper, she cast a spell.

"Zoltraak."

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[??? POV]

Beep! Beep! Beep!

The sound of the alarm clock woke me up and I opened my eyes, realizing everything was all just a dream—a vivid one.

I sat up sluggishly, taking in the familiar sight of my mundane bedroom. Morning light barely seeped through the half-closed curtains, casting a faint light over the scattered textbooks and novels piled up on the floor and desk.

Rubbing my forehead, I tried to shake off the lingering visions from that dream. Who was that white-haired elf? And why was she facing that dreadful demon god and his army? There was something oddly familiar about it, but the feeling faded as reality took over.

Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I felt the weight of my real life pressing down on me once again.

Ah, I almost forgot.

My name is Hikari, and I'm just an average Japanese high school girl. Unlike the stories I have read about, my life wasn't magical or adventurous. It was simply exhausting.

Books had always been my refuge. Whether it was a short novel that you could finish within an afternoon or a series that took years to finish, they brought me comfort.

When things got too overwhelming like school, my parent's expectations, and the continuous pressure to be someone I didn't want to be, I withdrew into the fictional stories of heroes and mages from far-off lands.

But lately, even that wasn't enough. No matter how sincerely I buried myself in literature, the stress pursued me. 

My parents had high hopes for me. I was supposed to be the model student, expecting me to excel in everything and make them proud. The teachers only added to it, piling on homework and constantly reminding me of my "limitless potential."

The more they pushed, the more suffocated I felt.

For everyone, I was deemed as the perfect student—humble, hardworking, and focused. But in reality, I could barely hold myself together. Every day felt as if crawling through quicksand, sinking deeper no matter how hard I tried to stay afloat.

Cough...

Ah... I coughed up blood...

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I stared at the blood on my hand, my mind going blank for a moment.

It wasn't much, just a tiny drop mixed with saliva, but my heart skipped a beat.

'Coughing up blood isn't normal,' I thought, immediately wiping it away with a tissue.

But the thought barely lingered. I had more important things to worry about. Like the pile of homework on my desk, the exams around the corner, and the fact that my parents were still expecting me to ace everything.

'It's probably just stress. I've been overworking lately,' I told myself, disregarding the uneasy feeling gnawing at the back of my mind.

I'd been feeling run-down for weeks now. Constantly tired, sometimes dizzy, and my muscles felt sore, like I'd been doing strenuous workouts—which, of course, I hadn't. But I found ways to explain it. 'Of course, I'm tired. I haven't had a good night's sleep in forever.'

Still, the sight of the blood kept replaying in my mind. I could almost taste the metallic tang in my throat. I shook my head and forced myself to focus. 'I can't be worrying about every little thing. It's just a small cough. Everyone gets those, right?'

But brushing it off was a huge mistake.

After several hours of nonstop studying, the coughing came back—worse than before. I tried to push through it, convincing myself it would pass.

That's when I noticed something else. Without warning, dark bruises had formed on my arms and legs, as if they'd appeared overnight.

'Those weren't there before,' I thought, staring at the strange marks in confusion. Something was definitely wrong. I finally decided it was time to tell my parents about these symptoms.

I stood up, determined to leave my room. I hesitated at the door, my hand hovering over the handle. For a moment, I had thought about turning around, crawling into bed, and forgetting everything. But I couldn't. I need to face this, whatever it was.

Pushing the door open, I stepped into the hallway, my legs shaky but my resolve firm. Slowly, I made my way down the stairs, gripping the railing for balance.

Each step felt heavier than the last. Nausea suddenly swelled in my chest, my vision growing more and more blurry, but I kept moving forward.

'Just a little further,' I told myself. 'I can make it.'

But as I was about to reach the bottom of the stairs, the dizziness overwhelmed me. My legs buckled, and I felt myself falling.

The world around me spun, my body hitting the ground with a loud thud.

'No... not now...'

My vision blurred completely, fading into a haze of dark shapes. 

"Hika...ri? Hika...ri! Hi..."

I could hear faint, muffled voices calling my name. My parents, perhaps? But I couldn't focus on them. The sounds seemed distant and distorted like they were underwater.

My body felt unbearably heavy, slipping further to unconsciousness. I tried to move, to reach out, but my limbs wouldn't respond. All I could feel was the cold floor underneath me and the weight of my own fading thoughts.

Ultimately, my eyelids closed shut, and everything went dark.

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I could feel myself slipping away.

The cold floor beneath me no longer mattered, the pain in my body fading away like a distant memory. What was left were my thoughts—the regrets, the things I never said or did.

Is this really how it ends?

I wanted to believe that I had more time—a chance to turn things around. But the reality was undeniable. I had pushed myself too far and ignored all the signs, and now… it was too late.

I never really lived freely.

The realization hit harder than any despair I had ever felt. I had spent so much time trying to meet expectations, to be the perfect daughter, the perfect student. But for what?

In the end, none of it felt like it was truly me. I had been too scared to disappoint anyone, too scared to fail, and now I was paying for it.

I wish I had been braver.

My mind drifted back to all the stories I'd escaped into—the magical worlds within my books, where heroes lived freely and fought for what they believed in. I had always envied them.

Now, all I could do was wonder what it would have been like to have that kind of boldness in my own life. To fight for what I wanted, instead of hiding behind expectations.

Will anyone even remember me?

It was a question I didn't want to confront. But deep down, I knew the answer. I had spent so much of my life trying to be what others wanted... but in the end… I hadn't lived for myself.

Just as that thought sank in, a bright light suddenly appeared. It wasn't morning light pulling me in—it was something transcendental, and comforting, like a gentle embrace.

I didn't resist as the light drew me in, leaving the pain, exhaustion, and regrets behind. For a moment, everything seemed peaceful.

As I was enveloped by that radiant glow, a single thought crossed my mind—a fleeting wish.

I wish… I had the chance to live a free and courageous life.

After that, the light consumed me entirely.

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[Third POV]

Deep within a dense rainforest, hidden away from the prying eyes of the outside world, lay a village inhabited by elves. Their homes were built into the massive trees, roofs entwined with vines and leaves, blending harmoniously with the nature around them. 

It was quite lively. Yet, one house in particular was filled with peaceful anticipation.

Inside, a pregnant elf woman lay on a bed, her face pale yet determined. The midwife worked quietly, guiding her through the last stages of labor.

"Just a little longer, Ma'am," she reassured while working. "Keep pushing."

Nearby, the woman's husband waited in the background, anxious about his wife's well-being while pacing back and forth. 

Moments stretched into what felt like an eternity, until ultimately, the room was filled with the sound of a newborn's first cry. The midwife smiled warmly, rubbing the sweat from her brow as she turned to the couple.

"Congratulations," she announced with a gentle tone. "You have a healthy baby girl."

The elf woman took a sigh of relief, her eyes welling with tears. As for her husband, he froze momentarily before letting out a satisfied breath while stepping closer.

Meanwhile, the midwife wrapped the baby girl in a soft cloth and gently placed her into the mother's arms. The infant stirred slightly, her small fists curling as her pointed ears peeked through tufts of hair. 

The elf woman turned her head slightly, still smiling, and spoke to her husband in a gentle, loving tone. "What should we name her?"

The father stared at his daughter for a moment, lost in thought. His mind wandered through countless names, but none of them seemed quite right. As he gazed down at the white hair of his child, something clicked within him.

"Frieren," he declared, his voice soft yet resolute.

The woman's eyes glimmered as she glanced at the newborn in her arms. "Welcome to the world, Frieren. Please grow big and strong."

Unbeknownst to the elf parents, the newborn harbored the soul of the girl who wished for a second chance in life.

And eventually, she woke up.