My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

I was still kind of reeling from just the ambiguity of it all.

Felt like I was a little kid coming up to a cashier for something specific but having no clue how to describe it either - so a bit of grunting and some arm-flailing was the best I got to somehow make things make sense.

Alas, Sera over here wasn't being paid minimum wage to tolerate my shenanigans with a serving, hospitable smile. Quite the opposite, really… and it was only through the miracle of goodwill that I haven't yet been snarled out of the room.

Better I splurge as much as I could of it before it all shrivels up - patience was never her strong suit, after all.

"Just to be upfront, it won't just be for a little while either," I said, loosely parroting what little I was told. "Might take a few days, she said. Also means you'll have to stay over at her place throughout the duration."

The sheets below her baggy sleeves slid loose from the bed, scrunched and suckered into her tightly balled grip. A harsher growl carrying her sentiments profoundly enough to rattle in my bones, and I could practically feel that goodwill rapidly dwindling in the rising intensity of her scowl.

"Yeah, had a feeling you'd say that…" I muttered, forging in spite of clearly conveyed dangers. "Look, she said she'll provide for you - your own room, meals, and everything else while you're there - it's only for a few days, I promise. Then you'll be back here with everyone before you know it."

Don't know why I was even providing comfort when there wasn't any. Tried looking for upsides, but there wasn't any of that too. This request, what I'm asking for her, it's solely made just to inconvenience her. But I still gotta try something, don't I?

"Trust me, I wouldn't be asking you if there was any other way or any other person. But you're the only you, Sera. And Irene needs you to do this - I need you to do this. For me, Sera. Won't you?"

It's amazing how very little was needed to express so very much with just a single look alone - annoyance in every shade, resentment at its purest, and reluctance layered above it all - blending all together with the glint of bright gold.

Because, of course, what else would Irene have such specific need for her if not for precisely what she's capable of? And if my hunch was right, if Irene really wanted to talk to Ria again, then there's all that effort, all that struggle, fatigue - the toll she'll have to instill on her body - just as she had with me before.

And just like back then, all seemingly without any true purpose to it.

She's right to feel aggravated. Hearing Irene's request myself, I couldn't have been more empathetic to her growls. But even still…

"If you're alright with it, I'll take you there now," I said, inching closer to where her legs and cloak dangled over the edge of the bed. "If not - I get it too. Just think about it first though, please. I can wait."

And so I did. Slowly pacing about the cramped emptiness allowed of me in the room, and with every switch of direction, coming to a different conclusion to this fifty-fifty equation. Yet every way I looked at it though, her refusing seemed like the most obvious and sensible outcome.

But, and this was just me grasping for silver linings, if the answer really was a 'no', then she wouldn't even need a second to tell me that.

A snarl was all she needed.

So this chance to ponder, this continued silence surely was a mark of how far we've come.

From hostility, to tolerance, to an understanding, then I blinked - and suddenly, I'm fishing out hundreds for a tree on her insistence, sharing meals, and even living under the same roof as her in quick, seamless succession.

We really did come a long way, didn't we?

Then slowly, she gazed back up at me again - stopping me dead in my pace with a stare, a look showing even more, and it was then I realized that we had come an even longer way than I had thought.

Sera quietly gave a nod.

Couldn't help it, try as I might, the biggest, dumbest smile on my face was the only way my satisfaction wanted to show.

"Thank you," I said. "For doing this, it means a lot. I want you to know that."

But fuzzy-mushy warm feelings wasn't also one of her more greater aspects, and a moment later, she reverted right back to her signature look of disgruntlement.

In any case though, there ain't no glaring away grand gestures like that.

"I'll go wait by the porch," I said, making a beeline for the door. "I'll inform Ash on the way, you can say goodbye first."

Fifteen minutes later, I had a purple bobblehead strapped tightly around my back as sped along alone across twists and turns in the late shadow of dusk. Even without winter coating every street and city block in the same shade of white, I'd still have trouble being certain of the path I was taking.

I'd never been to Irene's home before, and the address she sent had sent me treading on unfamiliar territory. A region of town that was teetering between the line of not-quite-so-rural and not-quite-so-suburban. Everything here was considerably less jam-packed compared to the tightly-packed buildings I was used to seeing deep in the city.

After a final turn having recognized the street name on a stray snow-rusted sign, I entered a stretch of residential homes, two storeys tall, garage and all, and clearly a much bigger space than what a lone succubus would know what to do with.

Guess she just likes open spaces.

Approaching the end of the street, I spotted a distinct silhouette astray to the side in the beam of my headlight. The sight of Irene standing amidst the falling snow with her arms folded made her look like one of those wintry spirit maidens of urban folklore.

Won't be surprised if I wound up actually getting cursed for real.

Oh yeah, I already have.

Should be safe, then.

"Thank you for coming," Irene said, a rare, genuine smile on her expression, slowly approaching forward as I stalled the bike to a stop. "I really appreciate you doing this."

Hmm, that sounds familiar.

"Thank her," I said, gesturing to Ms. Violet Helmethead and helping her with removing the last part of her name with a forceful tug. "Wouldn't even be here without her, right?"

"Of course," with a courteous nod, she promptly addressed the silent Sera. "We haven't interacted much since we first met, have we? You don't know me, yet you still choose to help me. Know that I won't take that lightly. You have my gratitude."

Sera, as always, was speechless - for lack of a better term. And after offering Irene the briefest of acknowledgment, set her gaze on the front door of her home.

"If it requires a day, two, or maybe three… I assure you I won't keep you here any longer than you have to be,' informed Irene. "The moment your help is no longer required, I'll send you straight back."

Again, Sera couldn't seem to lock eyes with her for any longer than a few seconds, and without being prompted or given permission, the violet-cloaked helper roused forward, pushing the entrance open and entering without any hesitation.

"Hmm…" Irene thinned her lips after her. "I suppose I'll take that as her just being keen to get started."

"Yeah, started on what, though?" I raised my brows at her. "Y'know, you still never said."

"Must I? You can be dense, but you're rarely ever dumb. I'm sure you've already arrived at your conclusion, haven't you? A hunch?"

"I'd rather I hear it from you officially," I said.

"Soon, then," She softly assured, wearing a tender smile that dissuaded any further dissent. "I'd rather I not get both of our hopes up just yet."

Such a tease…

"Anyway, I'm honestly surprised you managed to persuade her into helping," She said, throwing a brief glance back to the slightly parted door. "Not that I didn't have any faith in you, it's just… I'd have thought you'd need longer than just a few hours."

"A little bit of kindness goes a long way," I muttered. "And I know you have plenty to spare. Don't spend it all on me."

"I'll keep that in mind," She shuffled a bit closer, surging me with a bolt of lightning with a light peck on the lips. "In the meantime, go home, go rest… thank you for convincing her. I'll talk to you soon."

And with a parting smile, she began to stride away, reaching to the front of her doorstep before I thought of something, felt something, a compelling urge killing the rumbling engine of my bike, stuffing the keys deep into the pocket of my coat.

"Actually," I spoke up clearly, and in the near distance, I saw her come to a stop. "Do you mind if I come in for a while?"

She turned, mildly surprised, the whistling wind billowing forward her confusion.

"Let me rephrase," I said, heaving in the chilling cold, and longing greatly for a bit of warmth. "Do you mind if I go see her?"