My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

As my vision cleared, as my hearing settled. In the distance, I saw her, heard her.

"Oh dear, you were holding onto him, weren't you?" Mom spoke, an ugly grimace on her face, as if feeling the pain I was feeling tenfold. "Are you okay? You're not hurt are you?"

"A barrier," I shot her a glare, recouping my breath, and swallowing hard, "You put a barrier around the house, didn't you?"

"Dear," She took a step forward. "Listen, I - "

"Can't use your powers, that's what you told me, that's why you won't help me, that's the reason you gave me," I heaved in a deeper one. "Liar… you liar!" 

"I did not lie about anything," She said before I could interrupt again, her voice speaking firm and loud. "You're right. There is a barrier placed around the house, and yes, I am the one that placed it here. But it wasn't because you brought me here. This barrier has been here for long before you were even born, dear. I spent years, decades, molding it, little by little, using as little magic as possible overtime to have it as it is now."

I noticed she wasn't smiling anymore, that a look of guilt had washed away all the joy off her face. I didn't care.

"Why?" I demanded. 

"Why?" Mom repeated back faintly. "You know why," She added. "For your protection, for your sister's, for my family. I have it made just in case. I took inspiration from the barrier that protected Astra, remember we briefly talked about it? This barrier is designed to recognize and keep out anything I consider unwelcome. Anything that tries, well, usually, they're supposed to die right away."

Die? Right away? A single step, just like that, and she's only telling me this now? After the fact itself?

"You were gonna kill him," I shook my head at her, my mouth hanging open. "Just like that, if I hadn't been holding him, you would have - "

"It was for your own good."

"My own good?" My mouth dropped even wider. "My own good? Or sorry, did you mean yours?"

"Don't do that, please," Mom arched her brows. "I know you could never do it yourself. I know that is not who you are and I love you too much to put that burden on you, so I - "

"No, no," I didn't wanna hear it, didn't want to believe it. "Don't even say it." 

"I had to make a choice." 

"No, you don't get to make that choice for me!" I shouted, finally losing all composure. "I ask for your help, I came all this way, and you, and you just…"

"On your own accord, yes, you did come all this way," She interjected. "You came all this way, already knowing my answer, already knowing what I thought about this. Of course it would stand to reason I would act on what I think is best. Why are you even surprised at all that I would do as I did?"

"Because I thought the same person who made me who I am today would at least try to practice what she preaches! Because your my mother! Because I thought, deep, deep down in my heart, I thought you'd eventually understand!" 

"Oh, dear, but I do understand, I really do," She looked at me sadly. "Why else would I have done what I did?" 

Harry was right.

Jay… was right.

All along he was right. Every word, every claim he made, everything happened exactly as he had predicted. All she knew was to kill, her every solution, to harm, everything she touches, she brings to ruin. He was telling me this, vehemently, desperately, and I turned a deaf ear to it all.

And this is what I get. This is what I deserve for thinking, for hoping otherwise. That she'll eventually hear me out. That she'll eventually come around. If it was for me, if it was for her son…

Jokes on me, huh?

"You can't save him, dear," She said, her tone becoming soft again. "You don't have the power, the ability. You'll only kill him if you try."

"You don't know that," I hissed back. 

"On the contrary, actually," She narrowed her lips. "I know that better than anyone else."

"That's not what you said when it came to the Blightfall," I immediately pointed out. "Before, you kept telling me I could do it. Before, you told me you believed in me. So why can't you just believe in me now?"

"That was different."

"How?" I snapped at her. "How is that any different?! Do you have any idea how difficult it was to get rid of that - ?!"

"And that's precisely what makes it different," She interjected. "If you truly did struggle that much with that Blight, then this…"

I cut her off. "I'll learn."

"Not soon enough."

"You don't know that!"

"Actually," She said, going a full circle around, and ending up right back to where we started. "I do."

As I collected my thoughts, I noticed that nobody else was coming between us, nobody tried to break us apart, to simmer matters. Dad, nowhere to be seen. Sammy, out of the picture entirely. And both Ash and Adalia stood rooted to the spot, unable to do anything else but simply stare… and though their gazes were empty, Adalia especially, I could sense their unease. On their faces, their rigid expressions, all was crystal clear.

"Please, try to understand, that's all I ask," Mom said, using that same calming, gentle tone she always used to comfort me. "This is what's best. This is - "

"What's best?" I scoffed at her. "Like Astra, you mean? Like Kronocia, huh? Right, because you always thought about what's best for everyone."

"No, not everyone, never everyone," She said quietly. "Just us… just you…" 

"This isn't for me, I never wanted you to do this for me," I felt every word leave me, expelling out my lips like fire, hot, raging fire. I pointed at Harry on the ground, unable to stop my finger from trembling. "For him. I just want you to do this for him. For once! Just once! Can you try? Can you just consider? Can you… can you just… can you just be the mother that I know you are?"

That fire died, that rage smothered, I felt my voice stripped bare of all its strength, and all that was left was what had already been there all along. Me, helpless. Me, pleading. I knew she heard me, her face showed the hurt, her stark raven-black eyes, just like mine, I saw the sincerity… and yet, all to no avail.

"I already am," She said, turning away from me again. "I always am…"

In silence, her footsteps lightly trudged through the dirt, creaked, as it reached the rickety steps of the porch, stopping, silencing, at the top of the stairs. 

"This is the way it has to be, dear," She said remorsefully. "You bring him in, he dies. You keep him out, he'll be consumed. Either way, there's nothing you'll be able to do to help - "

"...break it."

Mom paused. "Sorry?"

"I'll break it," I repeated, louder this time. "This barrier, I'll break it, I'll dismantle it. If I do that, I can bring him in." 

"Break… the barrier?" Mom spoke the words, her head slanting, bemused. "How?"

"You did it before. Astra's barrier, you took it down yourself, you told me," I said. "That means it's possible."

"Yes, it is possible. Every barrier is breakable if you know how, but that was their barrier, their flawed, imperfect barrier," She stared right at me. "This is my barrier, my creation, and I can't stress this enough - my magic. I'm sure you know what that means."

"And I'm your son," I stared right back. "I'm sure you know what that means too." 

That's when I saw it, there, unmistakable even at a distance. That faint smile on her lips, that glint in her eyes.

"My, my, my, you really are your mother's son, aren't you? So stubborn..."

"I don't have the power, the ability, that's what you said," I scoured my eyes towards the empty air in front of me, seeing nothing, but yet feeling so, so much. "I take this stupid thing down, I prove you wrong."

"I see," She said, cocking her head. "And then what?"

"And then I prove you wrong," I said again. "That you can be wrong, and if you're wrong..." I briefly turned to the collapsed figure in the dirt. "Then he can be saved."

"Your father's son too, truly," She remarked, smiling fondly. "Always wanting to accomplish the impossible."

"You'll help me then," I took a step forward towards her. "Say you'll help me then."

This was it. There was nothing else I could think of, no more options, no more choices, this was less than grasping for straws, less than grasping for air.

No more asking, no more pleading, no more begging. This time, for the first time... 

I demanded. 

Mom's smile stayed on her face. From afar, still so easy to read, to see, the tenderness staring back at me.

Slowly, and wordlessly, she took down the lantern hanging above her head. Her soft expression basked in its warm orange glow as she held it in her hands.

"Even from here you're still so tall, why, it truly is amazing," She blew a breath, a hint of admiration leaving with her sigh, and snuffing the light within. "You really have grown so, so much, haven't you?"

That wasn't an answer, that wasn't what I was counting to hear. And yet, at least to me, that was answer enough.

"Yeah," I replied. "I guess I have."

For now, it was answer enough.

"Still a bit skinny, though...."