My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

Nothing.

That word, that noun. It's my everything now. Nothing became synonymous with my life, it's become my go-to answer to the age-old question each time asked, "So, what have you been up to recently?".

For once, I suppose you can say, things have mellowed and acclimatized to the point where yesterday's absurdities can be considered tomorrow's mundanity. Which, if you can't catch my drift, simply means I've officially settled in nice and comfy to my completely ordinary-unordinary life.

Since that day, last Saturday, that day of many turning points, that many flips to a new chapter, also known as Convention Day, Date Day, D-Day, whatever you wanna call it… 

There have been plenty of developments that have arisen since then. Some things big, some things small, most things simply just trivial, things like what? 

Well… Ash mastered the smartphone, Tyler finally announced the winner to his challenge (Spoiler:I didn't win), and most inconsequential of all....

I got a job.

Holy shit, right?

Yeah, I figured it was about time.

My winnings from the convention were actually quite a hefty sum, and no doubt if I play my numbers rights, it'll last for a long time… but since I was no longer recuperating from any magical traumas, and no world-ending catastrophes to avert in sight, I thought I should at least be doing something… right?

So I did. A couple of hours in the afternoon wandering around town looking from establishment to establishment for any help wanted signs.

When I shared this decision of mine with the others, they gave back a wide array of responses. 

Ash was quite supportive of my new venture, but perhaps a little too much. I spent like a good half hour talking her down from wanting to join me on my job hunt. 

I already barely had anything to do around the house thanks to her ever-improving immaculateness, and add to the fact that she technically doesn't even exist as far as society is concerned… yeah, you could kinda see how that wouldn't fly by in an interview.

Adalia was the most indifferent, the most despondent of the lot. A nod, and then after the most lethargic, "Good… luck…" ever uttered, she tossed herself onto the couch once more and went back to sleep.

As for Irene, ever the busy bee she was, rarely answering calls, and even rarer seeing in person, shot me an encouraging text agreeing strongly with my decision after I sent her a message telling her about it like a full day prior.

Kinda wish her response time was better, but I suppose she's trying her best… and look - she even signed it off with a little heart emoji at the end too.

Aww.

Meanwhile, Amanda, smiling wide and eyes gleaming bright with opportunity, was the lovely queen that ended up ending my hunting spree with a golden offer served up on a silver platter. 

And so four days later, here I was on my fourth day on the job at the Seven Cloves Cafe as a part-time barista and part-time server. A small, lovely, little fantasy-themed coffeehouse owned and independently-ran by a very close friend of hers. 

It seems my God-given coffee brewing talents were finally being put to good use. 

Given its theme, it goes without saying that the place has its quirks, none of which were much of a downside, really. Keep the lingo used at all times olde. Maintain a mystical, mythical presence whenever a customer is around. And one must always be dressed in the proper working attire - which means Leon's costume actually had a use apart from a once in a year occasion. 

You do all that, and you're pretty much set. You get the job, and you get paid. Plus free cakes on break. Who doesn't like free cakes on break?

I work the mornings till the early afternoons, so usually I'd be the one opening up the place, but I was told that some days I wouldn't need to worry about that because the owner would occasionally come around to lend a hand… and it seems today was finally one of those days.

Through the window, I could see the orb-shaped bulbs fitted into the low-hanging ceiling were already illuminating the insides, enveloping the interior in its dim, warm atmospheric lighting.

When I opened the timbered wooden door, pulling at its golden-encrusted handle adorned in many intricate sketches, I was immediately blasted by a torrent of frost spewing from the 'magical air cooler', and greeted by the mystical chime of silver bells hanging atop the doorway. 

Fourth day in a row, by now, I was getting quite personal and familiar with the view before my eyes. This cozy, homely, humble abode that was not too small, but also not too grand. 

The walls were a strange patternless mixture of hard stone, oak wood, and swaying leaves of a bright forest green, and lining these walls were paintings and sketches of everything ranging from wide-shots of dragons mid-flight and mid-breath, to close-up portrait images of iconic figures in myths, as well the mandatory scenic landscapes of mountaintops and wide-open plains.

Where there were empty spaces, bookshelves were placed to fill in the gaps… and they did more than just hold books. Some contained vinyl soundtracks, others had a wide array of memorabilia teetering at the edge of their shelves. Scrolls, scriptures, maps, anything a mythical being might need to feel at home.

Then for some reason, they had such bulky, giant antique chairs that could easily fit two scattered all over, and yet the tables that they were paired with could barely hold a book without one of its ends sticking out the edges. 

Manager told me that was the whole point, it served to enhance the eccentricity and add flair to the mythos. I still don't see how that makes sense, but I'm paid to work, not to question… so I learned to accept things as is.

Lingering strong in the air was the distinct scent of freshly-brewed coffee beans, but with it was also faint traces of lavender, a hint of ginger, and a sharp, zesty fruity-sorta smell that I couldn't quite place, which signified only one thing to my wrinkling, crinkling nostrils...

Someone was concocting elixirs in the cauldron. 

Manager warned me this would happen one day… guess today was also one of those days. 

I leaned my head over the countertop where the aroma was most pungent, peeking all the way across from the glass display exhibiting delectable treats like our world-renowned Succubus Bliss with cherry on top, or the ever-popular special Everblue Muffin topped heavy with magic dust, that's when I saw it… 

Shooting up from beneath the otherside of the counter was the pointed tip of a witch's hat, so quick, and so sudden, that very nearly rendered an eye of mine blind by it. 

I managed to stumble myself away in time, and luckily was able to keep both my eyesight intact as I stared bewildered at the slyly smiling, impish face sinisterly kept shrouded by the shade of that hat, which she tilted upwards with a poke of her magic staff.

"Ah, well look who it is!" parted wide those smirking reddened lips. "If it isn't my new favorite employee! The Hero of Astra! The Jester Knight himself! The Big Man Of - !" her mouth stayed gaping open for a time, before resuming with a skewered frown. "Hold on, what was… what was the last one again?" 

I decided not to answer that, and instead greeted her, "Good morning, boss." 

At that very instant, her expression turned mortified, appalled… offended. 

"B-Boss?" rang the deep resounding shock in her voice. "Oh no, Mr. Oh no, no, no... is that really all I am to you? After all we've been through?"

"I don't know, would you rather I call you Ms. Judge? Ms. Host?" I placed my elbows atop the counter. "I figured Boss seemed right given the circumstances. Respectful, formal, good right?"

"Oh, I for one think that Hayley sounds much, much better," The Witch leaned herself further over the counter, her hat slanting, shadowing the glint in her eyes in an unsettling shade of danger. "Agreed?"

Not wanting to risk getting written up on my first week for insubordination, I wholeheartedly complied, starting over again with a smile, "Good Morning, Ms Hayley." 

Satisfied, Hayley the Witch stepped away, beaming, but also raising a gloved finger in warning. "Drop the 'Ms' if you wanna keep your job. It's just Hayley." 

Once introductions were done and over with, I went into the backroom to change into my work attire I kept stuff in a duffel bag slung around my back. 

There were many steps and intricacies to donning Leon's hero robes, but slowly but surely, I was getting the hang of it… and before long I was stepping into the cafe area again, fluttering a majestic cape draped over my shoulders.

"Handsome. Gallant. Ravishing," The Witch ogling, her elbow on the counter and a palm propping up her chin, gave her lips a good long lick. "My type exactly." 

When I got back to the counter, I noticed something new had been added to the view.

It looked bizarre, it looked colorful, it looked like -

"An espresso?" I eyed the slow wafting swirl of steam atop the countertop, the brown foamy froth slowly bubbling at the outer rims of the cup. I took a whiff, smelled that same zesty, gingerly, fruity smell and immediately winced. "That's not an espresso..."

"It's a new recipe I brewed!" She explained with glowing unfounded pride. "I'm thinking of adding it to the menu." 

I felt my heart sink.

"From the cauldron?" I inquired.

"From the cauldron!" She nodded. "It's been so long since it looked so shiny and polished that I just had to give it a go for myself, and I think I might have outdone myself this time actually." 

I glanced over her shoulder where all the coffee-making equipment I meticulously cleaned and kept proper only just yesterday, now looking like a scene from a slasher movie from a director with a suspicious penchant for bloodshed. 

Things that weren't supposed to be blent, she had been blent. Things unbrewable, somehow, someway, she brewed. My station was practically a murder scene, and the maniac responsible was leering with glee right in front of me, pitter-pattering her palms as she nudged the cup ever so slightly towards me.

"Taste Test," She said so venomously sweet. "I'd dearly love for you to be first. No, I want you to be my first." 

Provocative double meanings aside, I peered an eye over at her work, frothing, bubbling, festering at the surface, then glanced back at her, trying to keep my breakfast from spilling over the counter. "The manager's in. I saw him just now in the back." 

"Didn't you hear me?" She took a teaspoon and had to stick it in hard to force it through the muck. "You, first. I'm very keen."

"I'm sure the manager would be too, considering he's clearly the one with the most experience. His palette should be better than mine, I'm just saying."

There was this drab, dreary look on her face. "No, he's useless. Tongue's as vapid and bland as his stupid face. Said it himself," Then craning her neck to the backroom, she shouted loudly. "Isn't that right, Nick?!"

Almost immediately, a loud booming voice echoed back her answer. "Yes, Hayley. That's right."

Goddamn it, Nick.

"So," She lifted the cup, pressed it firmly into my unwilling palms. "Will the Hero of Astra deny this poor Witch's request? Or will he stay a hero and make this lovely damsel's day?" 

Well, I was warned plenty already beforehand, wasn't I?

It's just one of those days...

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