The Silver March of the Northern Empire
Beneath the fading light of a cold imperial sunset, three figures walked through the ancient capital as whispers followed in their wake. Frieren, the timeless elven mage whose name had long become legend across kingdoms and battlefields, traveled once more through lands shaped by wars she herself had survived centuries ago. Though her expression remained distant and unreadable, countless memories lingered behind her emerald eyes—companions lost to time, promises never forgotten, and a quiet fear of growing attached again. At her side walked Fern, her disciplined apprentice, a young mage whose calm demeanor and remarkable magical talent had already begun drawing the attention of nobles, scholars, and soldiers alike. Beneath Fern’s composed exterior rested fierce loyalty and a growing determination to understand the emotions her master kept hidden from the world.
Following close behind them was Stark, the crimson-haired warrior whose courage often hid behind nervousness and self-doubt. Despite his insecurities, his strength had carried the group through monster-infested frontiers, ruined fortresses, and countless battles where survival seemed impossible. Together, the three had become known throughout the Northern Empire as wandering heroes draped in white military coats—silent protectors appearing wherever darkness spread. Some believed they were agents of the Empire itself, while others claimed they were ghosts from an older age walking toward an uncertain future. Yet beyond the rumors and legends, they were simply companions continuing a journey through a world slowly changing around them, searching for meaning in fleeting moments that even time could not erase.