Frieren Fridays are back! I know that because, in the whirlwind of Winter 2026 anime premieres, the MLB TikTok account posted a celebratory reminder that Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End was returning for a second season. When even a social media account typically devoted to baseball (the non-anime kind) decides that we need to rejoice over the continuing adventures of Frieren, Fern and Stark, it must be an occasion worth remembering. But then again, Frieren ’s popularity is wide because its appeal is wide. And part of that appeal is due to just how much it reminds us of our own families. For those who have never seen it, littered throughout the extended quest that Frieren and her new pals go on are copious flashbacks to Frieren’s old pals, the adventuring party of heroes that she was once a part of. Being an elf means that she has outlived most of them, but they retain a spot in her memories and frequently jump to the forefront of her thoughts whenever she’s reminded of the lessons of shared humanity that they taught her. Sometimes these flashbacks obtain an important spot in the timeline of the chronology of the world, but mostly they offer a glimpse of connections worth remembering and worth being carried like a gift. If you’ve been lucky enough to spend any amount of time with older family members, it’s a feeling that you probably know well. The people who predate you and your immediate family had relationships with folks that you’ll never meet — complicated, yet wonderful things that they cherished even when someone else passed on. You’ll likely never know the full extent of what they shared. Heck, it’s hard to know the full extent of what anyone shares with another person. There’s a common saying that you will never truly “know” someone’s relationship outside of your own. There are moments you will miss, things you won’t be told, and whole eras that you won’t be around for. All you have in totality is, well, you. But what you are around for are the stories and personal anecdotes told about them. It’s often impossible to gauge them with any sense of coherent time, especially when you’re a kid and time is an amorphous, frustrating concept. Just like the first amazing episode of Frieren dealing with the mortal course of Himmel’s life, and Frieren being surprised by its effect on her, we struggle to place these stories as part of a family history. There is rarely a granular context to settle them. Instead, they form something mythic, like a particularly hilarious joke or a valuable message or a poignant experience. And they stand like still photographs (or like in Frieren ’s case, a statue), a moment captured in recollection. What they were like in movement, you’ll never know. But they become beautiful nonetheless. It’s not a complete picture. In the first episode of Frieren ’s second season , Eisen the Dwarf reveals to Frieren’s old party that, when he was younger and faced with a hard situation, he fled. Himmel soon turns this into a relationship-affirming quote, but this doesn’t replace the sting of shame that Eisen feels. Those kinds of memories are the ones rarely shared. Not only do they make for pretty poor family dinner conversations, but nostalgia has a way of filtering them out. So does age. As you grow older, like Frieren is emotionally, there’s a tendency to forget and even forgive if you find yourself capable. Not everything. Some things stick with you, and years later, you find them like a knife in the side, lingering and hurting. But often you gain your own amount of relative experience to say, “Oh, I get it now.” You hear a story about some supposed family member when you’re young and it baffles you. Why would someone act like that? An indefinite time later and you’re bearing those same feelings. That’s another one of the core themes of Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End , taking to heart all the humane sensitivities that Frieren once considered foreign. There are plenty of other reasons to watch Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End . It’s an immaculately paced fantasy adventure that takes both glee in its genre trappings while also meditating on them. I mean meditating quite literally. So many scenes are imbued with quiet peace that one fears they might somehow interrupt them. Even alongside the bittersweet treatment of time and aging, there’s a tranquil sense of the joy of having just been in the world. You close your eyes and become thankful that you were given the chance to simply exist. The wind is in your hair, the forest surrounds you, and your friends are by your side all the while. YOU got to experience that. It’s an atmosphere that allows one to mull over the kinds of stories that you’d hear about the family you never knew. Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End is a story told in the present, but things from the past linger as more than just ghosts. Instead, those people have transformed into monuments to be carried when things get rough, and emotions to remind you of your inner strength. The folks alive now might not know everything about them, but no one is actually meant to. Instead, you take what’s been passed down and, with love, place it in younger hands when the time is right.
