My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World



Y'know, I really like my bike. 

One could even argue that I loved it even. 

Hard not to when it's pretty much pried me free from the daily need and wait of those large metal puke machines they call public transportation just to have a way to commute from point A to point B. 

But as we say to justify the excuses we make: the grass is always greener - and perhaps even fresher - on the other side.

And Irene's car was smelling absolutely fresh, alright.

Somehow, even in her absence, her presence was just made all the more stronger. I mean, they do say abstinence makes the heart grow fonder, but I don't think this was what they meant by that. 

It's enough, potent-wise and any other way otherwise, to have me deeply reconsidering my permanent mode of transportation. Sure my bike was nice, reliable - but it didn't come with its own hundred percent all-natural air freshener to soothe the senses, and that unfortunately just docks every single appeal it had going for it in my books. 

And really, I don't think Irene would mind too much loaning her car out to me for a few days If I asked. Or a few weeks if I really had to, maybe even months, years… 

Forever?

Now before anyone goes judging me for drooling over a woman's scent - the hell else was I supposed to be preoccupied with driving the lonesome roads in the deep night of early morning while inside a pseudo-hotbox of leftover Succubus' cooties? 

There are only so many miles left before I'm back pulling up on her driveway; before I'm back dealing with the matter at hand… and since there's really nothing to look forward to in goodbyes, I might as well take this chance to indulge in all the good vibes I could before they're all gone for the night.

I wasn't at all sure what exactly I was gonna find going back, and even if I did, I probably wouldn't even know what to do with that information either. 

Occasionally at red lights, I'd skim over my phone - half-expecting some text, a call - nothing, just some digits over an empty home screen letting precious time casually tick on by. 

It was already half past three when I arrived at Irene's neighborhood. I remembered when we left - how rife every street was with activity, every lawn its own festive affair.

Presently the only thing that remained in those lawns were the crinkled remnants of cigarette butts and probably a few patches of intoxicated grass. And the streets, with what used to be all manners of light and colors bleeding into the asphalt, now had only the dim glow of lampposts and my headlights to guide the way forth.

It was quiet, empty, as it rightfully should be considering the time. Even on one of the rare few days it didn't necessarily have to be… guess it was just one of those things when you just know when the fun has to stop. 

In our case though, well… that remains to be seen.

After a final turn, and my foot slowly easing off the pedal, I finally arrived back at her place. I switched the engine off, felt everything come to a dead stop, and then spent a few moments there idling away behind the wheel just eyeing the front door like some noir detective at a culprit's hideout in the middle of a stakeout. 

If they heard me arrive, then clearly I wasn't worth the few extra meters needed to open the door and see. With time, I could probably come up with a few more million reasons why anything was the way it was, but instead of that, I chose to just get out of the car and see if they did hear me… only for the exact opposite to happen. 

I heard them. 

Or rather, I was hearing something. And the closer I got to the front entrance, the more I could discern. I could hear a beat, some kind of rhythm, and even a melody to follow along muffled up against the door, and also, um… is that screaming?

No, wait, that's singing. 

I slightly pushed open the door and a split second after I began to regret all my life decisions up until that point. It was like a yodeler with a sore throat was caught between a wood chipper and a blender; the ear-grating, soul-piercing sound that ushered me into the house. 

The walls were shaking, the floors rattling - or maybe I was - it was genuinely hard to tell. All I knew was that 'My Heart Will Go On' was being brutally massacred before my very ears.

By some way or another, I managed to stumble my way into the living room and was greeted by an onstage performance around the coffee table by our very own Celine Dion of the Skies, belting it out on the mic with such fiery passion that I could just listen to it for the rest of my life… because, really, that's how it's starting to look like right then. 

I won't lie - I was extremely eager to see Irene's newly-bought karaoke machine get some use the moment I first laid my eyes on it, but if I had the chance to take it all back just to spare me from this moment, then take me back, please take me back.

"Hey! You made it!" Ria screeched between verses, delighted to have finally noticed my presence. "Favourite song, you know? Loved it the moment I first heard it. So beautiful, tragic…" 

I nodded, silently hoping the ringing in my ears wasn't permanent. 

"Yeah, it's tragic, alright…" 

"Oh! How'd you like my performance out there? Bet none of your fancy science-technology stuff could do any of that, huh?" 

She looked egregiously smug, vain-y, batty eyes just waiting for the compliments to shower all over, and hey, after a show like that - all deserved.

"Nope. Yep, you got us all feeble humans basking in awe at your glory. It really was pretty good."

As expected, her ego went swelling three times the size of her giant bird form.

"You wanna have a go? We can duet," she offered, suddenly holding out a second microphone. "The Jack to my Rose. Or the Dion to my Celine. You know how the song goes, right? Sure you do! " 

"I'll pass," I said at once. 

"Suit yourself," she said, pulling it back. "Join your girlfriend then. We're already four songs in and she's having the time of her life being serenaded here." 

I swerved my eyes, spotting Irene on one of the couches, wearing a rigid sort of grimace that was stuck between amusement and just plain-out torture. Most importantly though, to me at least, the sparkle in her eyes hasn't faded yet. 

"Not really, you just wanted to sing," she refuted outright. 

"Well, if you aren't gonna jump in anytime soon, I'm not assuming anything else otherwise," Ria fired back, three thousand decibels as she sassed into the mic. "Now, shush! My favorite part's coming up. You listening, you ready? Nope, none of you are." 

And as it turns out, none of us were. When the third part of the song began, the moment the drums hit and the crescendo peaked, Ria went and put her own spin on things and warbled the cry of a thousand drunken ducks, her head thrown back, eyes clenched shut, and ears tone-deaf as fuck. 

The literal bird can't sing. Who would have thought?

I needed to sit down - badly - and slid over to the side of the couch. It only took a second before Irene began promptly scooching herself over beside me. I met her eyes, and then I saw her smile. 

"Took you a while to get here," she said, leaning closer to be heard over Ria's continued solo performance. "What kept you?"

From afar, it was just a hopeful guess. But inches away now, there was no doubt about it, she did look much livelier… lovelier too by extension.

"Saw an old face," I explained. "Wanted to catch up, share a drink… I didn't stick around long though."

Irene decided that that was a valid enough explanation and didn't press, not that she had any desire to anyway. She just stared on, overlooking the song and dance. If anything, Ria's claims of her being serenaded didn't seem to be all that unfounded.

"And you?" I asked her. "How's…?"

Except I didn't really know how to finish that question, so I just nudged my head to the shrieking banshee nearby and left it at that.

She understood perfectly.

"Great," she beamed. "We talked a bit, laughed a bit, then she drank a bit more… then the karaoke machine caught her eye, and you already know the rest." 

Ria hummed the last few remaining notes of the song or more like gurgled them, slowly but surely turning the act of singing into downright heresy in my eyes.

"But if you're talking about things later…" Irene went on, her smirk a little more on the knowing side. "Then I haven't really thought about it. And I don't really plan to." 

"Why not?" 

"Because I've already done it. You saw me doing it. And I realize if I spend all my time thinking about what's going to happen next, then I'm just going to end up missing the things that are already happening now. I decided - I want to enjoy this, whatever this is." 

What she was saying made total sense. To not want to worry, to just want to be in the moment, savor every second - that, I have no qualms with… but just at a certain point… y'know?

"You don't really have a lot of time left for that, y'know?" I told her.

She shook her head in agreement.

"No, maybe not." 

"And so when the time comes? You've decided?" 

"Not up to me," she said, breathing and speaking lightly. "Told you that already, remember?" 

The loudest, raspiest cough ever suddenly shot through the feedback of the karaoke speakers, and Ria loomed over in the distance, staring with guarded anticipation.

"Five songs in, folks!" she blared over the PA. "The question is, am I going for a sixth - or is someone going to come boot me off my throne now?" 

No one offered, no one went up and took the mic from her hands even if someone really ought to, and after a few seconds passed, Ria turned around and started to browse. 

"Sixth it is," she proclaimed, swiping furiously. "Hope you guys like Spanish." 

"It's not like she's gonna sing forever, y'know?" I reminded Irene. 

But she just shifted herself in her seat, and buckled down.

"I know…" she told me, ears perked, and an unwavering smile simply facing straight ahead. "That's why I'll enjoy it while I still can."