My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

Home sweet home. If I could, and sometimes I feel I very well should, I'd stay inside forever and never leave again. Certainly after the headaches of last night, I have every right to spend the rest of my days as a hermit.

Was planning on making today day one, too. Instead I only got to spend barely ten minutes - showering, getting dressed - before I was out on my porch again.

Irene said make it quick, so I made it quick.

Made it so quick in fact that by the time I reached the living room again I was still fiddling around with a jacket, trying to wiggle my arm through and out the sleeve opening as an audience of two around the dining table simply looked over at me. 

Smelled it before I saw it, Ash had made breakfast again… and by the pangs and cries of my stomach, it really looked to be a delectable meal. She just keeps one-upping herself by the day, seriously... it's such a shame I was making it quick.

Ash, standing always so refined, had a pitcher of orange in hand, while a recently-awoken Adalia, sat quietly, already heartedly feasting away.

"Will you not be joining, Master?" asked Ash. 

I noticed there was already an extra plate laid out by a chair, the only there left unoccupied. 

Why the hell did she made me make it quick?

"No, don't think so, Ash," I said, giving my most rueful smile. "Talked to Irene, so… seems I gotta go somewhere to talk some more."

She nodded, her smile back at me warm and understanding. Clearly she wasn't at all one bit bothered that I was skimping out on the meal she earnestly prepared for me. Meanwhile here I was, feeling rightfully eligible on earning the prime contendership for douchebag of the year.

I waved goodbye, and she bowed goodbye back - Adalia just did Adalia things, and stared silently at me with mildly piqued interest, nibbling on a slice of buttered toast hanging loosely from her fangs. So yeah, she said goodbye too, I guess.

Twenty minutes after, as the murky curtain-clouds above broke away to reveal a warm and sunny day, I found myself at the backseat of a bus again on a one-way express back into town. 

With all these daily commutes as of late, if I ever do end up winning Tyler's challenge, I gotta go looking myself into some budget cars to invest in… maybe have Ash tag along to - it'd be like a date at the zoo for her, I'm sure.

Silver lining to all these was that my body seems to be holding up all right. No sores, no aches, I'm finally feel my age again… at least until the next near-death experience coming soon to a theatre near you hopefully never.

Speaking of near-death, Irene on the phone sounded like it was a matter of life and death - it's absolutely guaranteed that I'm going to be in for a rude awakening, I'm just wondering why the dreadful news had to be broken at a waffle house.

Kinda nullifies the gravity of the situation a bit, don't you think?

Whatever, she's the one commandeering the wheel here - if she says waffle house, then I say chocolate or maple syrup…

And indeed, after a five-minute walk from me saying thanks to the bus driver, there I entered, swinging double glass-doors, smelling a strong concoction of both a swirling lingering pleasant aroma in the air as a nearby waffle-y dressed man by the counter merrily proclaimed to me, "Hi, welcome to Chili's!"

Okay, I made that last part up. But we've all heard the standard costumer fanfare before… you know what they all say. Their smiles go 'G'day fellow human brethren', but their tears inside laments, 'Oh God no, why do they keep on coming? Just go away, please. I have a family.'

Yeah, he was your usual standard affair.

I greeted his forced smile back with a wave, and proceeded to immediately start scoping out the place like a suspicious no-gooder up to no good, going table to table, seat after seat, keeping an eye out for my partner in crime through the bustle of screaming kids and baggy-eyed parents. 

Eventually I did spot the odd one out, sipping a cup of coffee at the most secluded corner spot of the establishment. 

Waltzing my way over, I took a seat directly across from her, landing quite hard on rock-solid padding. 

We locked eyes, she settled her cup down back onto its saucer, and took a deep breath.

"You're late," She paused, eyeing me all over. "You're dressed, you're groomed… you took your time. I said hurry, I've been waiting here for twenty minutes."

I smiled in return. "Thanks for the compliment, my turn. Let's see, you look absolutely… uh, well… absolutely…"

Absolutely what?" She inquired, eyes all owl-like. 

Well, I really couldn't say. Not for a lack of trying, mind you… one could say a lot of things about her choice for a Saturday morning look.

It's just that none of them would actually fit well with the standard definition of a compliment.

Not too sure what happened to her during bedtime, maybe her bed came to life and waged war with her bed or something.

But from the looks of things, how hair was completely unraveled, frazzled, like bits of loose strands on a yarn, to the unhealthy white tinge of her complexion… I wager to say that the bed might have won that fight.

That's not even to mention her attire, I guess her wardrobe went on strike against her too. 

A loose fitting baggy red tracksuit zipped her up from neck to toe in folds and furls.

Honestly, the best compliment I could think of then was a smile, but I don't think that's what she was expecting.

"Well?" She took another sip, a gulp more like. "Something good, I hope?"

I stuck with my smile. "Thirsty."

"Thirsty," She repeated, blowing a puff of air. "That's a good one. In fact, it's perfect. You just described me to a tee, good job. I. Am. Thirsty."

Gotta say, if that was sarcasm… then she's doing a good job hiding it beneath a veil of madness there.

"Okay," I cleared my throat. "So I doubt you called me here just so I could offer you my drink recommendations."

"Coffee's shit here, don't order any," She said, staring at her mug with disdain.

"We both clearly have things we want to say," I continued, ignoring her statement completely. "So how do we do this? You wanna flip a coin?"

She sighed. "Ladies first."

Fine by me.

"Alright then coffee lady, say away."

I expected her to straighten up right away, to set the drink aside, sober up to her cold, calculative demeanor.

Needless to say, I was more than a little bemused when she didn't, when she continued to sip away.

"I'm just going to assume you're going to start explaining things as soon as those rims leave your lips, alright?" I said, tapping impatient fingers on the edge of the table.

At that, she did indeed drew away her cup from herself, and she did indeed speak… just not the words I expected her to.

"What do you mean?" She asked so sincerely it was actually quite unnerving. "You already said what I wanted to say."

I stared, lips slightly parted. "Uh…"

"I. Am. Thirsty." She said, edging herself closer with each word. "Is that really so hard to understand?"

Honestly, frankly… a part of me really wanted to say yes indeed. But my consciousness just wouldn't allow it, because that would be a big fat lie.

I did understand. At least, I think I did. Nevertheless, I still went ahead and threw great caution to the wind.

"Thirsty for who?" I asked.

That did it. She was as close as she could possibly be now - at this distance, I could see every inch of her, see myself reflected back in dark hazel eyes… and harboring beneath all that, flickered a spark all too familiar.

Desire.

"Thirsty for you," She said to me, her voice almost a caressing whisper.

Suspicions fucking confirmed.

"It's time for you to fulfill your end of the deal."

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