My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

"And where have you been?" 

There he goes again. Tempting fate. Courting death, as if a lover for whom his passion and libido burn strong. I mean, come now, who talks to an elf like that? And to a lady, no less? 

So crass, so impolite. Lacking the sense of self-preservation of a more rational mind. 

Certainly not I. 

But as always, Leonardo continues to exceed any and all expectations. I suppose, if being the gallant hero he so claimed to be, he is entitled to his share of hubris and recklessness.

I, however, am not a being drowning in the favors and blessings of supposed Divines, so if I so happen to come upon the displeasure of having my throat sliced from an argument turned sour… my chances of simply walking that off would be rather slim. 

Sincerely, I pray he soon realizes that fact… preferably before my guts spilling out onto the floorboards become his first and only reminder. 

The elf sneered back; her overpowering disdain like a thick barrier stonewalling what little vestiges of beauty remained of her. Beauty in relation to an elf, anyway. 

"Need I remind you that Qredrar has compelled you to aid us? That you are now part of a larger whole," Leonardo said. A charming hero from tales of yore he was not. "If I cannot even trust you to stay in a group, how can I ever begin to trust you at all?" 

Remelda took aim of her scorn and pointed squarely toward Leonardo's direction. She shuffled into the house, leaving the front door wide open in the most ill-mannered gesture of impoliteness, the rushing wind of the verdant filling the flimsy wooden walls with the precariousness of slight tremors and shakes.

"We're not friends, human. Don't come expecting that we ever will be. There's no need for trust. I'll do my damn job, and you're free to whine about how I choose to do it. There. You can have some trust in that at least." 

"Oh my! Oh no! Oh dear, no, no, no, this ain't peachy at all! No sir! Is that an elf?! You's all got an elfie with ya too?! Tell me I'm all so grand, fine, and important to ya'll, and now you're gonna get me playing buddy-buddy with an elf?"

Tressa was much more restrained with her outrage. Something I could only commend her to the highest of praises for. 

Three strangers of no close attachment show up at your doorstep—one of which couldn't be bothered with the simple courtesy of closing one's door—and demand your aid for some unknown cause in search of a mysterious portal that may or may not even exist in the first place. 

I suppose the presence of an elf was only the rotten cherry atop this sour cake. 

"This is her?" Remelda hardened her gaze, neglecting once more to stifle the contempt in her voice. "The rumored descendant of the great Frederika, you seriously must be joking. A barmaid? A rather incompetent one, at that." 

"Right!" Tressa put her foot down. Both literally and unfortunately, also metaphorically. "Leave! One, two, three of ya'll—turned right around, goodbye, and oh, and please close that there door on the way out, won't ya?"

Leonardo stepped forward, closing the door as asked, deliberately ignoring the former half of her plea and keeping us under her continued and rapidly dwindling hospitality. 

"Tressa, please, listen to me. I know who you are, I know of what you hide. And you must help me. I must go back—the portal back to Asteria, please. The lives of countless people rest upon my return."

"I ain't and can't help ya, alright?" Tressa said, her patience finally snapping. "Go on and on with ya nonsense, but it ain't gonna make no sense to my ears no matter what. I ain't got no clue what you be speaking 'bout!"

"Yes, you do," Leonardo said. "Frederika—"

"And there ya go again! Ya just can't stop, can ya? Ever since you gone and walked yourself into my tavern," she said, her usual cheery self disappearing in a moment of anger I've never once seen of her. "No more—can't be tolerating it no more! Fine! Alright! Maybe I do look like your long-dead dumb God! But maybe that be all there is to it! Guy like you don't know no coincidence when he sees it?" 

"I don't understand. Why hide who you are? Why lie?"

"Get out!" Tressa suddenly roared, her home, the walls, the floor as if rippling mightily with her command. "Out! Now! Get out! If I see you ever again, I swear I'll make you regret it. Do you understand me?" 

Silence. With only the howling of the wind outdoors, stronger, louder, as if the rustle of leaves were attuned to her rage. 

Surprisingly, Tressa received no reply. It seemed even for all his boldness and nerve, Leonardo knew when he was properly bested. Or did he? For better or for worse, the hero types were all infuriatingly persistent. Maybe he'll concede now, but they always turn up again sooner or later. 

After my own experience with that very same persistence, I would definitely know…

Tressa would not rid of him that easy. 

So, if it was a choice between sooner or later, or whether she would comply of her own will, or festering with resentment, well… there was certainly plenty enough animosity shared between the three of us already. 

The quiet persisted, a tension in the air, as if waiting for someone, anyone, to continue the moment at hand. 

I took a step forward.

"Tressa, dear…" 

"And you!" She thrust a finger at me. The sharp blade, the sharper gaze of betrayal looking back at me. Her expression, as if saving the worse that she had for the last. "Chester, how could ya do this to me? Make me have to find you like this?! All them drinks on the house! All them business propositions you made under my roof! And now you gone and bring this idiot to my house to hassle me to death? I thought we were friends." 

"Exactly. Exactly! " I rushed to say, thinking fast to smother the fire before it could rampant. "All is exactly as you say! Tressa, you know me—and more than that I know what you've done for me. And you know I do not take my gratitude to others lightly. Especially you." 

I searched her expression for any signs of placation. Those beautiful hazel eyes of hers stuck in a harsh scowl. Her usual smile tightened in a stiff narrow line. Brown leaves fell where she stood; perhaps the most mesmerizing thing about her. As if nature itself adorned her very being in its embrace. Sometimes, I do wonder why that was. Perhaps she was simply just fond of dressing herself in petals and leaves. 

Or perhaps, as Leonardo suspected, there was a greater, deeper reason for it all. 

"Remember when your tavern was threatened with closure? When that noblewoman sought to buy out your business?" I asked. "Who was it that convinced her of the necessity of your establishment to the heritage of our town? To instead, invest in your efforts, your business, thus providing you with the necessary funds to continue on?" 

"Don't cha used all that like they're debts I owe ya on or something!" She exclaimed, looking reproachful. "I already know ya did good by me, ya already know I'm grateful! Why would you go and be using that against me now?!" 

"I'm not, Tressa. Believe me, I'm not," I said softly. "These are merely small examples of the lengths I would go for you. I know I have your trust, I know that is not a privilege to take lightly. I don't. And I also firmly believe that the feeling is mutual. That, if I were to come for you, to seek you for aid… that you, in turn, would also be there for me too as I was for you. Well, right now, Tressa… I need you." 

I started walking toward her, carefully. 

"This man, my friend, Leonardo… he needs your help. Now, I do not know exactly what it is he expects of you, but I know he is not wrong to seek you. I believe his plight, his objective… and I know you may have your reasons for renouncing it, but Tressa… there are much grander things at stake presently. And fine, maybe you don't believe it, maybe you don't believe him. You are more than justified for not trusting him. But Tressa, my dear…" 

When I was close enough, I stopped. Before her gaze, then, I took off my hat, gave her the smallest smile… not one of pleas or assurance… but absolutely sincerity. 

"You trust me, don't you?" 

For a singular moment, it remained as just her and I. Her eyes reflecting mine. Slowly, I could feel her anger dwindling, changing. Amidst the intangible and the unspoken, I saw her silent stare conveying something a little more… a tenderness, a softness… as if deeply, truly infatuated with… something. 

If only I knew.

"CUT!" 

Oh, sweet release. 

Finally. 

There it all went, the illusion, my immersion. 

The house quickly reverted back to nothing more than just four big panels in a square coated in a layer of green. The rushing wind came to a dead stop, as four giant fans were promptly carted away off set. And all my companions disappeared, replaced by a set of fresh, familiar faces. 

"My, my," Amanda said, giggling, her eyes still latched onto me; the feelings stirring within them, the only thing carried over from the scene. "I think I just felt my heart skip there." 

"I know, right?" Hayley exclaimed, her pointed ears brushing past my cheek. "Like, wow, why aren't you always like that in the first place?"

"You mean fake?" I asked.

"They mean charming," Leon walked over, reaching his hand and giving my shoulder an approving squeeze. "And clever. I mean, this is all from the top of your head, right? Seriously… that of skill… I seriously wonder where you get it from."

"That was good everyone! Very good!" reverberated a voice funneled through the screech of a megaphone. The director was on his feet, a rare smile on his lips. "I like the energy. Got no complaints here. You guys keep that up for the rest of the shoot and we're golden. Next scene in five. Oh, and Chester!" 

I veered my eyes toward him, blinking, trying to find his through the thick, dark lenses of glasses. Then, with his smile receding, his voice rang aloud once more through that large metal cone of his. 

"You got guests." 

And that was when I heard it, the lauding patter of hands. 

Mom was just a little to the left of him, clapping, beaming, her face utterly glowing with pride and enthusiasm. And on her right, just barely at shoulder's height, Sammy was smiling as well… but for more devious, demeaning reasons no doubt. Finally, Dad was there too, towering about everyone and everything as he quite often does when in public. 

Seeing them all here and right there felt… surreal. Maybe it was the setting, or maybe it was because they were watching me… or, more than likely, maybe it has to do with the reason they're even here to begin with. 

Amanda caught my eye, feeling much the same… or maybe even worse for all I knew. 

"Well," she took my hand, holding it tight. "Wanna go and say hi?"