Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today I’m feeling the call of the open road, and am eager to rejoin Frieren and her companions as they soldier on through the forbidding northern plains. Although frankly, their journey through the allegedly demon-haunted north has actually been quite pleasant so far; aside from Aura’s gang, they’ve mostly just encountered rolling hills, scattered villages, and melancholy reflections on the enduring value of any mortal life.
In our last excursion, the question of mortality was most directly considered through the character of Old Man Voll, a dwarven friend of Frieren who had committed himself to guarding a humble farming community. Voll’s spark had almost extinguished, and indeed, it was clear through conversation that senility was already robbing him of his memories. What kept Voll attached to this world was actually a pledge to the dead – a promise to his human wife, to protect the village she had loved. In spite of his longer lifespan, it was his ostensibly short-lived wife who maintained his spark of purpose, demonstrating how a life is defined far more by its vitality and impact than its length.
This subject was then teased at again through a Frieren staple, the interrogation of statues as symbols of enduring identity. Though we erect statues to honor specific heroes, that meaning is contained within the observer, not the stone itself, and fresh eyes will find their own meaning in mossy, untended marble. Eternity is a fool’s wish, yet our grasps towards it see us creating relics that nonetheless inspire those who follow – an odd form of immortality, but likely the most healthy we can hope for. Let’s see what fresh reflections await as we return to Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End!
Episode 17
“Take Care.” It seems we may be losing our priest Sein only a short stretch after we acquired him – though of course, in-show they’ve been traveling together for a fair number of months now. It’s a parting that feels uniquely appropriate for Frieren; “the constancy of the adventuring party” is one of the default assumptions of much fantasy travelogue fiction, but Frieren’s whole point is that things which seem eternal rarely are, and things which seem brief can nonetheless be profoundly consequential. For the cast and audience alike, this time spent with Sein feels too brief to already be over, an emphatic reminder of how quickly our circumstances and company can change, and thus how crucial it is to be present and attentive while you can
Though he only embarked on this journey to reunite with his friend, the prospect that he’ll actually have to split from the party to continue clearly fills him with reservation. Whatever motivates us to move forward is often more vital in form than content; so long as we are progressing, making new acquaintances, and generally engaging with the world, we will often find more to appreciate than we set out looking for. Thus Sein finds that though he only accepted the inconvenience of travel for the payoff of reunion, he’s now loath to leave the journey behind him
Richly detailed, warmly colored backgrounds as Sein considers his choices. The late afternoon light emphasizes this decision point; whatever he chooses, a meaningful chapter in his life is ending
Oh shit, new OP! Maybe this one will actually compliment rather than undercut the show’s tone!
This light, analog guitar backing is already a huge step up from the first, as is this gentle, somewhat carefree vocal performance. “Light,” “nostalgic,” and “folk-adjacent” are all qualities of an ideal Frieren OP, though really, the closer you can get to Spice & Wolf’s first OP, the better. That and Kino’s Journey’s OPs are basically unimpeachable within this genre space
Solid OP on the whole, though the chorus gets perhaps a touch too poppy and high-energy. Nonetheless a massive improvement over the first, and a reasonable enough tone-setter
Nice incidental moments of the party settling down before dinner; Sein tending the fire, Stark mending his overcoat, Frieren buried in a grimoire. As with the more overt montage sequences, these lovingly observed moments of rest emphasize the unsung texture of life, the long stretches between outright action that actually define our time here
“Isn’t this a new record?” “Yeah, they’re freezing.” The party’s assessment of Fern’s cold-ass hands emphasizes their long familiarity, the little games they’ve invented out of repeated experience. Listening from beside the fire, Sein says “ridiculous,” clearly already missing this camaraderie
“The snow’s coming down.” “Will we need to wait for winter to pass again?” Frieren is uniquely well-positioned to embrace an aspect of traditional journeys that many narratives downplay: how long it actually takes to move any great distance, propelled only by the power of your feet. A major journey isn’t something you can undertake lightly; you are at the very least bargaining away several years of your life for the sake of this trip, and severing any of your existing connections for at least that long
They learn that this region’s cold waves will likely keep them indoors for a month
Frieren is happy to get the chance to explore the town’s magical supply shop, while Sein offers just a hint of a smile at learning they’ll be together a while longer
The time passes quickly, and only when the village chief mentions the storm’s end does Sein realize they largely spent it apart; himself at the tavern, Frieren exploring tomes, the other two dedicated to their own practice. Time spent adjacent is not time spent together, and it is easy to squander the first until there is none left for the second
He is called by Frieren to mediate a dispute between our two lovebirds
More a misunderstanding than anything major, based largely in Fern suddenly realizing how strong Stark actually is
Afterwards, Sein can only lament the ridiculousness that they haven’t started dating yet. Frieren praises him for a job well done – just as they seem like children to him, so does he seem like a child to Frieren. An odd dynamic, but he’s come to find comfort in it
Still, it was Himmel who dragged Frieren out of her rut, inspiring her to do the same for Sein. An assumption of maturity or stability can be its own sort of cage; at a time like that, it can actually be the optimism and naivety of youth that get you moving again
Thus Sein decides to take the brave step once again, and part from the group to continue after his friend. To accept complacency now, and just stick with the party where’s he comfortable, would be to betray the courage with which he embarked on this journey
“Later.” What else can you say? The important moments are not the greetings and partings, but the substance in between, the raw material of bonding slowly over time, and becoming transformed yourself through your cohabitation with the people you choose to share your life with
“That was a quick goodbye.” “Unlike you two, Sein is an adult.” Neither Sein nor Frieren have to perform intimacy or sorrow to acknowledge what they meant to each other
Our party continues their journey through the Offen mountain range
Due to all this winter travel, Fern has come down with a fever. I appreciate the detail of Frieren still possessing that cursed demon horn, revealed as she unpacks to rummage for medicine
They take her to rest at a nearby farm, which Frieren states was actually a bustling village back when she last came through. Frieren basically exists in a perpetual state of returning to her hometown after decades away, and not recognizing any of the people or buildings. It’s little wonder she felt so disconnected from mortal life – if she doesn’t make a continuous, deliberate effort, the lives and concerns of humans slip past her in the blink of an eye. And if she can’t relate to them, why would she want to grow close in the first place, only to lose them so soon?
“When Fern has a cold, holding her hands makes her feel better. She’s been that way since she was a child.” “Frieren, you’re embarrassing me.” Sein actually finds comfort in Frieren treating him like a child, and reminding him he’s still got a long road ahead of him. In contrast, Fern is eager to grow up, and especially resistant to being treated like a child with Stark present. We seek to race out of childhood with all possible haste, and then lament the simplicity we’ve left behind
“In my mind, Fern is still a child. I’ll probably always think of her that way.” A sentiment that’s certainly not exclusive to elves. Our minds resist the inevitable transformations of age, preferring constants, positioning others as always embodying some specific age and attitude
They head out to gather herbs beneath an icicle blossom willow, a gorgeous tree whose petals seem to catch and reflect the white of the snow. One of the great appeals of these fantasy travelogues, simply showing off fantastical landmarks. I appreciated how Metaphor: Refantazio integrated these moments into its journey
“Nobody dislikes receiving support.” Our methods of connection are imperfect, particularly when combined with the crossed wires inherent in a situation like Frieren’s, but our attention is valued nonetheless
The episode is topped off with a beautifully illustrated new ED, a combination of lush storybook illustrations and stop-motion artifacts. Quite the generous upgrade!
And Done
Thus our party continues their journey north, having parted with the priest Sein as he pursues his own destiny. Their time together was relatively brief, but as I said before, that actually felt quite appropriate for Frieren, where the constancy and finality of time’s passage is never far from mind. Sein’s exit served as a tangible articulation of how swiftly things can change, turning the fantasy party’s assumed inevitability on its head with a reminder that every phase in life and every collaboration is ultimately temporary. And yet, as Fern’s ensuing cold revealed, we can still recall the warmth of prior bonds, and take shelter in the return to childhood embodied by the gentle hand of a friend.
This article was made possible by reader support. Thank you all for all that you do.