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Himmel had two dreams.
One dream, fierce and noble, painted the vivid tapestry of his quest to topple the nefarious Demon King, and saved many people who suffered under demonic onslaught that had plagued the land for eons. People told him that it was an impossible feat. They scoffed at the audacity of such a vision. Legends of yore, including the esteemed Hero of the South, had fallen short in the face of these malevolent beings, leaving a trail of failure in their wake.
Undeterred by the weight of history, Himmel clung stubbornly to his belief. He thought, with unwavering determination and the forging bonds with trusted companions, the seemingly insurmountable could be conquered. He understood a fact that demons overlooked and underestimated; that the potent strength derived from the linked hearts of kindred spirits proved formidable against the superior mights.
For Himmel, the real impossible feat was his other dream.
He had long abandoned that vain wish; buried deep inside the corner part of his heart, to never see a slightest light of hope. He knew the bud would grow too fast for him to handle, and the beautiful flower would choke him in order to escape into reality.
After all, he, too, harbored the fervent desire for the unattainable dream to come true.
In the hazy split between reality and illusion, Himmel clashed with the uncertainty of whether the vision before him was a blessing or a spiteful curse.
In front of him, standing still like a statue of goddess far more gorgeous than any other, was Frieren. Her white dress flowed like moonlight, a veil of the same hue framing her face as she cradled a bucket of flowers. A surreal stillness hung in the air, broken only by Heiter’s proclamation that they were bride and groom.
But, how could that be?
This was an impossible dream, after all. An enchanting illusion that lulled him to sink deep and coax him in.
Himmel staggered for a moment. The remnants of their previous battle lingered in his memory. Eisen’s departure to confront a formidable demon, likely one of the dreaded Seven Sages of Destruction on their hurried journey to the Goddess Monument. It was to return the future Frieren, who somehow ended in the past, to her rightful timeline. Shortly after, the remaining three of them passed by another demon, unaware of their presence, and thus fell to their mental magic illusion.
Even though Heiter is fortified by divine protection and might resist its effect, Himmel should aid him right away. Their opponents were undoubtedly one of the formidable Seven Sages of Destruction after all.
But, still…
“... Himmel?”
All of this looks so real.
Frieren’s voice, a gentle and tender melody, cut through the surreal scene. Her faint smile faded, replaced by a look of concern, her eyes searching Himmel’s face for answers. Despite the timeless beauty that still graced her features, the weight of maturity emanated from her words and movements, a reminder of the extended lifespan of elves.
“I’m sorry, I just…” Himmel, momentarily disoriented, struggled to articulate coherent thoughts. What an embarrassing sight he was. He collected himself, pinching the bridge of his nose, and after a pause, gazed at Frieren with a sigh of admiration. “... You’re beautiful, Frieren.”
A genuine smile bloomed in Frieren’s lips.
“He must be too stunned to see you in a bride dress. He loves you so much if that’s not clear enough,” Heiter’s helpful voice chimed from behind, followed by a chuckle. Eisen, standing beside him in a formal suit for the special occasion, nodded in agreement. “I bet he’ll crying anytime now-”
And Himmel really did.
Heiter’s words hung in the air, his expression morphing into disbelief at the unexpected cascade of tears. Clearing his throat, he chose to keep the moment untouched.
As the tears streamed down Himmel’s cheeks like a broken dam, a mix of shame and vulnerability washed over him. Frieren’s potential teasing and laughter seemed meaningless in the face of this overwhelming surge of emotion. His heart is heavy with a fusion of conflicted feelings.
Were these tears of joy?
Or sorrow?
“You’re beautiful,” Himmel repeated, as if it’s not enough to say it once.
But, Frieren didn’t laugh at him. Without a hint of mockery, she gracefully lifted her hand and swept away the tears from his cheek. “Thank you. You’re handsome, Himmel,” she complimented, voice laced in sincereness.
“I already know that,” he replied, a faint trace of humor surfacing amidst the emotional intensity.
“There you go again,” Heiter shook his head in disbelief. “Alright. Shall we go? It’s about to start,” he prompted, and they all agreed.
The trio of companions walked out of the room, chatting away and leaving Himmel standing alone, caught still between diverged emotions.
“Himmel? Why are you still standing there?”
As the pressure of the impending event weighed on him, Himmel balled his fist, grappling with the upheaval within.
“I…”
In the face of what felt like a transient reverie, a desire to seize the moment overcame him. He was reluctant to be labeled as selfish or greedy, yet he yearned to savor this ephemeral experience longer. It was an impossible dream, and if it were destined to vanish, he wanted to hold onto its fleeting beauty.
“I’ll go.”
***
As Frieren gracefully traversed the aisle towards the altar where Himmel awaited, he felt the weight of the moment settle into the back of his mind.
These memories, he vowed, would engraved themselves onto the canvas of his consciousness—the grandeur of the scenery, the dazzling wedding hall, the faces of the people who had witnessed their union, and, above all, the radiant bride approaching him… it was all exactly what he dreamt of.
They had defeated the Demon King. And he married the woman he loves the most in the world.
In the haze of this surreal bliss, a whisper of doubt brushed against his consciousness.
How marvelous it would be if this were not just a dream but a tangible reality.
Yet, a deeper understanding opposed his optimism.
This was his own selfish indulgence, a fleeting fantasy destined to shatter upon waking. Acceptance washed over him, and he gained a resolve to embrace the dream even as it dissolved into oblivion.
The ceremonial words resonated through the air, echoing the finality of the occasion. “Now, you may kiss the bride.”
Frieren closed her eyes and raised her chin, a picture of grace and anticipation. Himmel, entranced by the beauty before him, smiled tenderly and placed a finger atop Frieren’s lips.
This was enough.
As Frieren opened her eyes to meet his gaze, a silent understanding passed between them. In that shared moment, Himmel found solace, knowing that even in the fragile confines of his dreams, they had carved a fragment of eternity.
In the end, Frieren should have known.
“There should be a way out of this. What should I do?”
As expected, Frieren, too, acknowledged the uncanny scene unfolding before them. But, all of her whole being ascertained the authenticity of their predicaments, a ‘reality’ that seemed inescapable.
Despite the captivation of the illusion, the unspoken understanding lingered—they couldn’t dwell in this enchantment forever.
Frieren seized Himmel’s hand, guiding it towards the place where his sword usually rested. Her voice, a soothing cadence in the midst of turmoil, reassured, “Even if I can’t do anything, Himmel can,” she said; ever so calmly, ever so convincing. “After all, in my reality, the Hero Himmel never succumbed to the likes of some illusion.”
Himmel wrestled with the conflict within, a divergence between the noble image Frieren held of him and the stark truth he concealed. He wanted to say, no, it was wrong . Part of him yearned to linger within this dream.
The impossible dream he long abandoned whispered its allure, yet he harbored no intention of betraying Frieren’s trust and faith.
It was a delicate balance, but Himmel, with a semblance of determination, felt the phantom hilt within his grasp, even though his hand clutched empty air. He put his mind into concentration and heightened his senses, allowing him to discern the unnatural distortions in the room. A veil concealed the truth, and someone lurked behind it.
A smile played on Himmel’s lips.
“Leave it to me. Now, I can fight.”
Frieren’s encouraging smile acted as the catalyst, infusing him with the strength to break free from the enchantment that held him captive.
For one final moment, Himmel locked his gaze upon Frieren. “Did I already say that you’re beautiful?”
“You did. Twelve times today.”
“Do I? What a disgrace,” he shook his head in disbelief, sighing. “I should say more."
"You have plenty of time for that."
Himmel put his other hand on top of Frieren's. "Yes. I do,” he said. "I'll say it to you many, many times after this," he promised, eyes glinting in determination.
In a matter of seconds, the wonderful mirage is shattered.
At the long last, as impossible as it was, it was still a very beautiful dream.