My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World



Just when I thought things couldn't be any more of a downer, the twist and turns of the night just had to go and up the ante, and surprise, surprise - love's the ultimate gamble. 

A surrogate daughter secretly yearning for the care and presence of her pseudo-mother… as if there was any better way to close the year out on. Then again, was there really actually any other way that this was all gonna end?

When it finally comes time to say goodbye… there was absolutely no way things would wind up as easy and simple as it sounds. 

Something, inevitably, was going to give - preferably in the form of someone silky, sullen, and already halfway through her fourth refill of water.

Irene remained stuck withdrawn in a contemplative silence. I didn't really know what much else there was for me to say still, so I just inadvertently wound up reinforcing that reclusive behavior of hers.

In any case, there wasn't really much I could do to help. The mulling, the pondering, what happens later was her own decision to make.

The die was cast, all the cards laid bare on the table; it wasn't particularly in her character to act on huge gambles… she might just falter at the last second, fold her only play…

Luckily, I'm a whole lot more careless and impulsive going all in on something. For better or for worse.

"You're a little off the mark, by the way," Irene muttered into her glass. "It's not all about me. Her happiness is just as important to me too. "And you and I both know without a doubt she's far happier dreaming than living." 

"I guess," was all I could say, finding zero ways to refute that.

"And it's not right to take that away from her just because I'm feeling a little sentimental." 

"Implying that she won't be happy with you?" 

"Not forever." 

Again, no other response but to just grudgingly agree.

"So then, for all your wants, desires… her happiness comes first?" I asked.

"It should…"

That sentence didn't sound finished.

"But?" I prodded her again.

Irene just shrugged limply, completely and absolutely clueless. 

"But I don't know." 

Still didn't sound finished, but it was evident enough that she was… for the time being. Another barren couple of minutes of a table without service, plates without food, and a date without conversation. 

For my end, I was thinking of ways to lighten the mood, hurdle over the elephant in the room, but right in the middle of coming up with a one-liner, Irene gently began tapping me on the arm, alert hazel eyes staring wide over the rims of her drink.

"Trouble, two o'clock," she whispered.

I turned one way, and then the other. 

"Wait, my two or your two?" 

"Look, just - "

"Well, well!" all of a sudden, the flickering candle wasn't the brightest thing between us, literally overshadowed by an even bigger flame hovering over the edge of our table. "The hell's all this? No steaks on your forks, no wine on your lips? The fuck? Is this how you always treat your lovely consorts?" 

"Of course not," I said, feeling unjustly slandered. "And they're not consorts." 

"Then why the empty plates, Sultan Abdul-Harem? Or is sex really the only appetite you live off on?"

With a fiery gaze, Ria crossed her arms over my way, huffing the haughty huff of utter disapproval, spurring me to defend my good reputation.

"We were - " 

"Not hungry," Irene said, coming to my rescue, her face of misery vanishing into grumpy and moody. "What were you up to?" 

"Okay, I can understand not hungry, but I can't understand boredom. What? Biggest night of the year not big enough for you?"

"Only when there's nothing I actually want to do in it. This is your show, remember? You dragged us here." 

"That I did," Ria said in a short giggle, before clearing her throat and putting on a voice. "Okay, tell you what - how's about you ditch this clown right here real quick, and I can show you a real good time, hm?" 

Clown, ouch. 

"Clown's coming, Ria," Irene said.

Double clown. Double ouch.

"Yeah, duh - of course, the clown's coming! I'm just doing a bit. We're all going. Now, c'mon, let's go." 

But Irene didn't budge an inch. 

"Where are we going?" 

"Sure, later," she smiled sweetly. "Just come, trust me." 

"What are you planning?"

"Just come." 

"Ria, I'm not - "

"Come!" She shouted over her. "Come, come, come, come, come! Just come! C'mon! Let's go!" 

And before Irene could say another word, Ria pulled her right up to her feet and began leading her out of the restaurant hand-in-hand, leaving the clown made thrice on his own to chase after them, lagging right behind. 

Irene didn't put up much of a fight, didn't lament or complain about being tugged along aimlessly like a dog on a leash. Certainly not then, and certainly not now. In her shoes, I'd be whining 'till I'm hoarse. In her shoes, I wouldn't be so accustomed to it like she seemingly already is.

Through the cramped crowd, through the deep snow, Irene continued to just follow along. Past overhead the flash of fireworks, the whirr of drones, Ria's hand gripped tighter, and she gripped right back.

What a grip she had there. As if deathly afraid of accidentally letting go.

Or maybe I'm just reading too much into the complexities of hand-holding here.

Maybe…

Wherever the hell we were heading towards, we were heading there real quick. More of an urgent jog than a leisurely stroll now, the pace we were going. And the fact we even had this much movement unhindered at all was also a whole 'nother thing - whenever we were going was going to be free and empty.

Finally, Ria skidded to a halt and the stringing along came to a definite stop. I stomped the last few steps catching up, coming up to an all too familiar sight and place.

I stopped, feeling the rough bump of a protruding tree root beneath my shoe - peering right ahead at the dark, branchy entrance to what used to be where we had kept Ria residing.

Ria herself didn't seem at all aware how poignant this specific place here really was - which means she was totally clueless, and this was all just one big giant coincidence.

Still… it's poignant, alright.

Irene on the other hand continued to maintain a blind eye to all signs of sentiments and just got straight to the point, asking even more wearily, "What are we doing here?"

For an answer, Ria just gestured all around her.

"It's dark, it's empty, it's quiet," she explained. "It's perfect."

"Perfect for what?" I asked.

"To watch," she shot her hand up, pointing straight into the glimmering skies. "It's only once every year, after all. Better make sure you really enjoy it before it's gone." 

There was a massive giant of a man hovering beneath the clouds now, sparkling brightly in his new year's best and waving at complete random to us little folks down on the earth as fireworks aplenty soared and blasted over his flashing top hat. 

And, well yeah, it was certainly an impressive vista, grand, if nothing else, but…

"Just give it a moment," Ria said before anyone else could say a word. "The next one. Or maybe the one after. Just watch." 

So that's what we did - just watched. The three of us at the edge of a forest watching a stage show in the sky.

After the man was done with his performance, the outline of a dog came prancing about, chasing a ball while winding across pillars of a light. Then came a moment where the drones slowly converged in a perfect swirl that was as colorful as it was hypnotic. 

It certainly did what it was designed to do - a couple of minutes passed before I snapped out of a stupor, and even then, it was only because Irene couldn't be swept away so easily.

"Is there a point to this?" she asked, hiding her impatience with a lowly whisper.

"There's supposed to be," Ria frowned. "Maybe they're having some technical difficulties or - " 

Then it happened. The drones broke off, and Ria trailed away, her lips curving back upright in glee.

"There we are," she said.

The drones were taking form once again, flying all over the place to take their place. I tried to follow along, play it like a constellation, trying to connect one flashing dot to the next, but it wasn't until it was a third of a way through before the shape it was gradually taking started to make sense to me.

A pair of wings as long as they were large, accompanied by a set of talons, burly and sharp. In the sky, it was massive, awe-inspiring, illuminating the night in a gleam of gold as bright as the sun… and even seeming to burn and smolder just as intensely.

I blinked once, feeling my jaw come loose… seeing it… seeing her… clearer than I ever did before.

"It's…"

Ria let out a chuckle. Proud, smug, and absolutely giddy.

"Yeah," she nodded once, her face drenched in the colors of herself. "That's me."