My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

The tinkle of bells and the whistle of chimes. In a buzzing, muffled melody pulsing through my left leg and seeping into my ears they sang, 'Wakey, wakey'.

LIke the sluggish, ricketiest computer powering on and struggling to chug to life - one by one, I felt all my senses flip. I could feel my head, the skin on my face… for some reason also planted against the world's hardest pillow. I blinked, and I was greeted with half my view smushed into the blackness of a slab of concrete.

And just like that - instant clarity.

Everything from yesterday started flooding back into me at once as the two decade old processor in my skull finally loaded it all - booting up still to the tune of bells and chimes.

I slowly sat up, feeling a familiar searing and throbbing all over celebrating my return back to reality… misty white pouring from fractured skylights shedding light to all my erm… newly etched 'mementos' from the night before.

It wasn't rather much of an understatement to say I kinda looked like I just barely survived being mauled by a pack of ravenous wolves. Guess it's pretty good that I didn't have favorites when it comes to clothes… makes the grieving process a whole lot easier to get over.

The jacket was pretty old anyway… at least it went out fighting.

I fished for my phone that was wedged skewed in my pocket, and with a swipe, went silent the tinkling melody. Half-past seven, which was about the time I start getting ready for my shift… which incidentally doesn't begin for a good few hours.

But must I? Do I really need to? Can I just skip one more day? Just for today? Plead my case? Maybe if I sent a pic, Nick might just by that I really did get jumped by a couple of rabid wolves.

I focused on breathing, mitigating the flaring aches coursing within every joint and muscle - half-wishing the giant screen of glass in front of me was painted or black or at least temporarily stopped being so damn transparent… waking up in such a clammy and cold state was already bad enough without the sun trying to peek in and say 'hi'.

Which actually was already weird in and of itself cause I don't particularly remember choosing such a shitty spot to snooze away on. No, I remembered feeling like heaven, a bliss… like a baby being rocked and cradled away to the sweetest of dreams.

Where did my cradle go?

"H-Hey…" Groggily, I turned, feeling my head sway with such throbbing numbness, it felt like I was about to decapitate myself with sheer momentum alone. "Adalia…?"

I flung my gaze back towards the rest of the room, radiant and drenched in the chilly luster of the morning dew. I managed to only spot Mom's cloak lying in a crumpled pile a few feet away and take in the cluttered, haphazard mess of the movie set that enveloped most of the most space in its disarray before I heard it, heard her responding.

Quietly, softly… and very, very distant.

"I am… here…"

After that, I found her right away. A little to the left of a standing tripod, a few stray props - there sat a slender gray figure atop a large equipment box, a pair of legs, the swaying hems of a pleated skirt dangling loosely over the edge of it.

And juxtaposed to me, the state I was in - in the wintry rays of dawn, the light pouring life into her pale skin, glistening the grayish hues of her locks, even from afar, Adalia looked like an angel basking in the divinity of her own limelight.

I had to blink, long and hard, doing my best to squeeze out the sultry visage of her starved and lively expression from my thoughts… which was really easier said than done… and when I opened my eyes, she was still there… her dress now over her body again, the protruding veins faded from her murky gaze… and I blinked again; the image of her before now even harder to recall, swallowed up by the normality of her now.

Still, just with the sight of her, the only natural response I had was to smile.

"Good morning," I greeted, creaking ricketing knees beginning to shuffle closer to her. "Was actually hoping I'd wake up with me in your arms or something close. Didn't you sleep?"

She didn't answer. Rather, it seemed Adalia hadn't heard me at all. She had her hands buried in her hair, and now that I was no longer obscured by props and tripods and whatnots - I had a pretty good view of her attention a whole lightyear away latched onto something else.

"Adalia?"

Then suddenly with a stifled clatter, I heard something drop to the floor from right behind her, and in its dissipating echoes, she finally roused once more - the stagnant swirl of her gaze suddenly finding me standing right in front of her.

We locked eyes briefly, before curiosity went and led me astray… because I could really only think of one reason why I'd find her so intently focused on ruffling her hair with her claws.

I took one more step and there indeed laid proof of my guess, glimmering and twinkling in an illustrious row of gems atop the snow-sooted concrete. She must have really liked that hairstyle I gave her…

Nearly keeling over myself, I picked up the ribbon, dusted away the dirt, all the while Adalia silently watched almost as if in anticipation, with a peculiar sense of expectation… crossing her arms over her lap, fixing her gaze straight ahead, and presenting nothing but the silvery, silky cascade before me… like, gee, I wonder if she was trying to tell me something?

"Harder than you thought?" I asked, shuffling an inch, running my hand through a lock of her hair.

She nodded, her head falling in a slant that told me all I needed to know.

"My head's a bit fuzzy," I muttered, swiping strands over her left side and vaguely recalling the motions of my fingers. "Might take me another while..."

Adalia remained as quiet as ever, but that's okay - her silence was justified.

After all, this time I was the one that whisked away her focus, her attention… funneling it all a million miles into the light, gentle sensations of my hands gliding across the seams of her hair… and right then, that was all that mattered to her.

Didn't take words for me to know that.

When it comes to enjoying the little things - I know, especially after the night before - that no one else enjoys it as seriously and greedily as she does.

Like a pack of frenzied wolves.