"Guh… guh…"
'Hm…?'
Frieren, who had come to the kitchen cupboard to get a snack, noticed Aura's eldest child—her daughter, Laura—jumping up and down in front of the cupboard, her small hands reaching desperately toward the handle just out of reach.
Laura's face was scrunched up in determination, her little brows furrowed as she made another futile jump, her feet barely leaving the ground.
It seemed that the young girl had somehow caught the scent of the snacks hidden within, and now, she was doing her best to retrieve them. However, her small stature—only as tall as Frieren's chest—meant that the cupboard door remained frustratingly beyond her reach.
'What a greedy person,' Frieren thought, looking at the human Laura, who bore an uncanny resemblance to a younger, hornless Aura. Laura's round cheeks were flushed with the effort of her repeated jumps, and there was a stubborn glint in her eyes that Frieren couldn't help but recognize. Despite her youth, the girl had a significant amount of mana, enough that Frieren believed she had the potential to grow into a formidable mage one day—perhaps even surpassing Aura herself.
For a while, Frieren watched as Laura continued to struggle, her small hands still reaching in vain for the coveted snacks. It was then that Frieren realized how much of a mother Aura had become.
Placing the snacks just out of reach was a small, but telling, act of discipline—one that Frieren could easily imagine a mother using to teach patience and perseverance to her child. The realization was almost amusing, considering Aura's demon nature.
And then, it happened.
"Oh――! Huh...?"
"Hmmn—?"
A faint ripple of mana, almost imperceptible, shimmered in the air, and suddenly, Laura was no longer on the ground. The girl floated upwards. Frieren eyes widening in shock seeing Laura feet left the floor.
Laura ascended quickly, overtaking the height of the cupboard, her small body rising toward the ceiling of the modest house.
"Wah…!?"
"—!"
Frieren's sharp instincts kicked in as she saw Laura's flight abruptly cease. The child's eyes grew wider as she felt herself plummeting, her tiny body falling as if a string had been cut. Without a second thought, Frieren leaped forward, her movements swift and precise, and caught Laura mid-fall, wrapping her arms around the girl to cushion her descent.
"Frieren…?"
"Are you alright?"
Frieren asked, her tone gentle as she checked Laura over, her hands carefully brushing over the girl's limbs to ensure there were no injuries. Laura looked up at her, still wide-eyed, but there was no pain, only bewilderment. Frieren let out a quiet sigh of relief, but her mind was already racing, analyzing the strange event that had just occurred.
It was clear to Frieren, with her extensive experience in exterminating demons, that the magic Laura had instinctively used was not a manipulation magic like the kind that makes objects float. It was the flight magic unique to demons.
The sky was the domain of demons and monsters, a realm where humans had no power. For centuries, humans had been forced to find ways to bring down flying demons from the ground, their inability to take to the skies a fundamental limitation of their existence. The fact that humans could not fly was a truth so ingrained in the world that it had never been seriously questioned.
"…?"
But this human child, with her unusual heritage, had just broken that truth with the natural ease of a child discovering a new game.
A child with abundant mana, simply because one of her parents was a demon, had shattered that preconception.
Laura, simply because one of her parents was a demon, had shattered a fundamental preconception with nothing more than a child's innocent curiosity.
The flight magic that demons used as effortlessly as walking or breathing could, in theory, be adapted for human use. And now, Frieren, one of the most skilled mages of her time, had witnessed this potential firsthand.
There was no way Frieren would ignore this revelation. Her heart raced with the implications, and a spark of excitement lit up her usually calm demeanor. Without wasting another moment, she reached up, grabbed the snacks from the cupboard, and with a determined expression, hurried to the room where Aura was.
In the years to come, Laura, mentored by a certain elf who had lived far longer than most, would go on to be remembered as the "Mage Who Flew Through the Sky," a title that would become legendary.
She would be celebrated as one of the greatest sages of her time—one of the few who had slaughtered the most demons in history, her name echoing through the annals of magic as a pioneer who broke the boundaries between what was thought possible and what could be achieved.
—————
"Come to think of it, I was around that age when I learned to fly too."
Aura's eyes widened slightly at Frieren's unusual excitement, but she muttered as if to say that something like that had happened.
It was clear that Aura didn't share Frieren's enthusiasm about the potential breakthrough. The idea of human mages developing the ability to fly—a skill long reserved for demons and other aerial creatures—was something that Frieren found revolutionary.
However, to Aura, it was simply another trivial human endeavor. The development of human magic, no matter how groundbreaking, seemed utterly insignificant to her. Even when Frieren took the time to explain the monumental impact that adapting demon flight magic could have on humanity, Aura remained nonchalant, her attitude bordering on dismissive.
Though, one could argue that she was prioritizing her role as a mother over the progress of humanity.
"What do you mean…? Isn't flying just what mages do?" Aura asked, her brow furrowed in mild confusion.
"Mages don't fly."
Mages → Fly
Witches → Fly
Sorcerers → Don't fly
Alchemists → Don't fly
Magical Girls → Punch
Apparently, this was Aura's understanding. Frieren couldn't make sense of it, and though she wondered what "magical girls" were, she decided it wasn't worth the time and regretted even asking.
If they try to talk to Aura from the perspective of a demon, the conversation won't progress, so they should talk at the human's pace.
"How do you fly…?"
The question hung in the air, and for once, Aura didn't have a ready answer. She froze, her mind racing as she tried to articulate something she had never consciously thought about.
"Hmm…? Hmm…?"
Still seated in her chair, Aura began to levitate, her body slowly rising off the ground. She floated a few feet above the floor, moving back and forth in various directions as if testing the air. After a few moments, she descended back to her original position, a slight frown creasing her brow.
It was as if she were trying to understand something so basic that it had never required explanation—like asking a bird how it flies or a fish how it swims.
"…I wonder how am I even flying?" Aura finally muttered, more to herself than to Frieren.
"What…?"
And it seems that the demons don't think about it that much either. After all, most people don't think about how they walk or breathe; these are actions performed instinctively, without conscious thought. The mechanisms of walking and breathing can be explained by kinesiology and biology, but flight—especially magical flight—remains an uncharted territory in the field of human magic.
For humans, the ability to fly had always been an unattainable artifact, a distant dream. But for demons, it was so commonplace that it had never been questioned or studied in depth.
Now, Aura was being asked to pioneer this instinctive ability for another species—without any prior knowledge or understanding of how it actually worked. The sheer absurdity of the task was not lost on either of them.
"Frieren, this is impossible—"
"Aura, adapt demon flight magic for human use."
"What…?"
As expected, Aura is hesitant to accept Freiren's impossible, end-of-the-century demands. But as always, the obedience spell that bound Aura to Frieren's will compelled her to act, and she found her hands moving naturally, as if of their own accord.
Later, Aura would reflect on this moment, likening it to being handed a passport and told to climb Everest in winter using equipment from 150 years ago. It was a task so daunting, so ludicrous, that it seemed almost laughable—if it weren't for the fact that she had no choice in the matter.
"Hey, Frieren… this might take… no, this will take decades, maybe even centuries," Aura admitted, her voice quieter now, tinged with a rare note of vulnerability. "I can't even begin to form a coherent theory for flying."
"I'll help." Frieren responded without hesitation.
She pulled up a chair next to Aura, who had been reluctantly forced to sit at the desk, and began to pour over the problem herself. There was no question in Frieren's mind that this was a task worth pursuing, no matter how long it took.
Humans could perform the flight magic of demons—
What had once seemed like a fantasy was now within reach, and Frieren, ever the relentless pursuer of knowledge, was determined to see it through. There was no reason to delay, no excuse not to explore this newfound possibility. And so, with Aura by her side, she embarked on the monumental task of making the impossible a reality.
—————
"—So, after all those twists and turns, the reason mages can fly so effortlessly nowadays is mostly thanks to me. Fern, you should be grateful"
"Huh…? Is that so?" Fern replied, her tone flat and skeptical as she half-listened, more out of politeness than genuine interest.
In a small room inside a cabin on the outskirts of the Holy City of Strahl in the Central Lands, Aura was talking about herself to Fern, who listened, occasionally nodding in response.
From what she heard, it seemed Aura wasn't just tagging along with Frieren for nothing; she was likely a legendary mage in her own right for humanity.
"Munya… Aura… I hate onions…"
"…But, honestly, I might've been better off dead…"
However, the great demon in front of her showed no sign of vigor.
"Just remember one thing, Fern…"
"Hmmmnn… Aura's… onion head…"
"Caregiving… it's a thankless job."
Fern couldn't find the right words to say to Aura, whose back seemed so small and tired, despite not actually being worn out.