My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

Against all odds and defying the very fickle threads of fate itself, it has come to my attention that the shoot was apparently resuming production at once.

From what I could gather, it was Amanda who brought about the great return of the Director from his thirty-minute-long self-exile from showbiz.

I'd say I'm shocked, but c'mon, we're talking about Amanda here. One way or another, she was always going to get her way in the end. There's just simply no denying her if she wants something bad enough.

A film adaptation of her favorite game starring her in a main lead? Yeah, there's no unrolling that ball no matter what. Sisyphus eat your heart out.

When the news initially broke out, Mom was the first person they sought out thus bringing our conversation to an abrupt halt. Apparently, she needed to be prepped again. Some darker shadows around her eyes, sleeker curls over her shoulders, that sort of thing. As if she even needed those extra touches.

As for me, aside from a bit of oil and salt on my fingertips, I was pretty much good to go. After discarding my plate, I walked Chester back to his spot trying not to get in the way of everyone else's mad scramble to their positions along the way.

"27th time's the charm?" I asked, greeting an exhausted Amanda who was slumped against a tree.

Her exhaustion looked to have alleviated a little the moment she spotted me, but not quite enough to completely get rid of the deadened air that robbed the spunk from her spirit.

"Depends," soft and lifeless the words flubbed out of her. "Is your mother going to stop scaring the shit out of everyone?"

"No, she's fine. It should all be fine," Leonardo stepped in, his chest puffed full of confidence that seemed like it was more for himself than anyone else. "It's not his mom's fault if we're unable to meet her at her level. Just means we gotta keep on trying 'till we do."

"Can we afford more slip-ups?" I asked, genuinely unsure; because the gaunt, brooding husk of a man that I could see sitting in the Director's chair looked like he was one misspoke line away from needing to be restrained in a straitjacket. "Unless you got a replacement director on standby I don't know about, seems to me like we only have one last shot at this thing."

Never before have I seen the bravado deflate from Leon's chest so fast.

"Well, I mean," he said, recovering and swelling up again quickly. "Assuming we aren't able to get the scene today, so be it. Really, so what? There's always tomorrow."

"Not really," Amanda said, and Leon once more did his best pufferfish impression. "We have permission to film here only just for today. Getting another permit would be a hassle. Then there's the matter of planning, making sure everyone's available on the day—and say we don't get it right on the next time as well?"

That's when Hayley chimed in, sprinkling cheery optimism into the conversation. "No choice, 27th time's the charm. Listen, the problem is that Terestra's too terrifying. Solution? Stop being afraid of her! Like, c'mon! Amanda—you beat her in New Game+ using just a wooden ladle! In a speedrun no less! What do you have to be afraid of?"

"Difference. There's a difference. Don't act like spooning her to death is the same thing as this. It's not," Amanda said, exasperated. "And like you're any better! Actually being in a scene with her, especially with a performance like that—it's like… like… you know what I mean, right? It just… it feels real. Something about it, when she speaks, when she looks at you… and she looks at you that way… it's nerve-wracking."

"That being said, you seem to be doing alright," Leon noted, throwing me a glance. "Kind of impossible to be scared of your own mother, I guess."

"You kidding? Ever accidentally sleep in on a school day?" I told him. "You don't know true terror, trust me."

"Nevertheless, doesn't change the fact that she doesn't get you like she gets us," he said, giving me another deeper, longer glance. "Man, if only we could switch roles just for this part. We might actually get through this if you were the one wearing the cape here."

Before I could say anything back to him, the air began to vibrate and shake with a low, hollowed voice; the despair magnified to such a degree that it was just plain sad.

"Everyone, back to your places now. Let's go. We're giving this one last go, one last time, understood? From the top. Good luck."

We all got into position, shifted into character. With a long, hard blink, I blocked out the cameras, the cables, and anything out of place in my peripherals, focusing only on the things that would draw Chester's attention.

Like Leonardo lost in the deep depths of his thoughts, or Tressa pacing restlessly back and forth, doubting her own resolve. Then there was Remelda with her brow distinctly furrowed, a nasty snarl on her lips holding back her contempt and failing at that.

The number of times I've seen this same scene… if only someone was keeping count.

Oh wait, we were.

"Scene 24B, Take 27," echoed the same dismal voice, sounding somehow so imposing yet so feeble. The voice spoke one last time, issuing one last command, before finally, begrudgingly, leaving us to our own discretion. "Action."

Despite all the uncertainty from before, Leonardo was actually giving his best performance yet. Same could be said for Remelda. The both of them bickering back and forth with each other with more crunch to their words, that extra wrinkle in their scowls. To everyone else, their eyes might scream hatred for one another, but I knew better. It was a shared look, a shared sentiment—one that begged, that implored the best of each other. Or else…

The scene was still far from over though.

When Tressa attempted to simmer them down, riling Remelda up even further, I was there surreptitiously repeating their lines under my breath, feeling the squeezing tension of anticipation, of dread… spotting a flicker of something skirting and slithering amidst the rustle of leaves, the darkness beyond heralding the ominous.

Eventually, inevitably, as Leonardo's patience reached its peak, it was time. With soft, sinister words inciting a chill like no other, she emerged from nowhere, from nothing.

At once, I knew something was different. I could see it, feel it even. I don't know who did what behind the scenes, but clearly someone back there thought Terestra wasn't already horrifying enough and decided to take it up a notch.

Her face was paler, abnormally, unnaturally. Like a corpse, a festering one. Which clashed horribly with those eyes, a shimmering black that seemed to encompass all. The hems of her dress arched upright and crooked. The way they swayed about, flittered as she moved. Almost like they were alive.

All this, on top of a sky that seemed as if bent to her will; a sea of clouds suddenly across the blue skies, the afternoon sun, erasing all shades as darkness encroached from the shadows. The wind grew heavier, colder, and amidst it all, Terestra spoke once more with her signature smile.

"Just who knows the things I've done while you are gone?"

In the back of my head, I thought back to what she said. Whether then or now, she was always herself, always the way she was. This was how she was.

Really?

Miraculously, in spite of the grim and dark, Leonardo stood before her, his expression unwavering.

"Come to gloat?" He sniped at her, the heft of his blade held steadfast and still in his grip. "No, not gloating. Venting? Even now I suspect Astra remains ever beyond your reach. It must be frustrating. Thwarted once again. Even in my absence."

Terestra chuckled faintly behind her smile. "Quite remarkable the feats you're all capable of when you learn to band together. If only you had all done so much sooner… perhaps then you would all still have a lot more than your tiny little kingdom."

I could feel hope rising in me. Are we actually doing this? Could we really pull this off? We've been to this part before too many times over but never like this, never this good… never this visceral.

"You're his demon," Remelda said, her usual harsh tone noticeably, perfectly, diminished. "You're a lot skinnier than I imagined."

Not a compliment, yet Terestra took it as such all the same, nodding humbly at her. "Thank you."

"Thinner bones," the elf said, trying to convey her message much clearer. To little effect. "Easier to break you, I mean."

So far so good. Everything was going smoothly, perfectly. Terestra whirled in the other direction, setting her sights on a petrified Tressa.

"Helping them means interfering with my work," she said to her. "Sending him back, I would prefer it if you didn't do that. I'll have to stop you if you try."

"I… look, I ain't got nuthin' to do with this, alright? Whatever the heck…" Tressa said, shaking a few leaves on her head loose. "They kept askin', harassin', so I gave! Got no choice! I didn't even wanna be doing all this in the first place!"

"And what if I make them leave you alone?" Terestra suggested nicely. "Would that help?"

"Said it once, said it twice, kept sayin' it all the time. This all got nuthin' to do with me," Tressa said, stepping back and averting her eyes. "Keep me out of this. I just wanna go home."

Heeding her words, Terestra rounded back toward Leonardo, her smile shaped in a subtle sneer. "Coercing this poor woman's aid in the name of your sworn duty. My, how far our hero has fallen indeed."

"You will not keep me confined to this realm, Terestra," he said, unbridled rage stifled in low whispers. "No matter what it is I have to do."

"Oh?" She cocked her head at him, waiting, anticipating. "And just what exactly are you going to do now?"

This was it. The crux of the entire scene—what every take, every mistake had been leading up to all this time.

Leonardo would charge at her, and a fierce battle would ensue… or so the audience would be led to believe. Instead, subverting the usual routine, the hero would unclench his blade, and here, in a land brimming with mysteries, in a time rife with countless inquiries, he would finally ask her the question that had dwelled in his mind for a time too long.

A question I was all too familiar with.

"Why did you send me here?"

Except… for some reason, he wasn't saying it.

Why wasn't he saying it? What's happening? Why is he keeping quiet?

Leonardo stayed glaring at her, except that was all that he was doing. Did he forget his line? Did he choke again? Here? Come on, we never got this far before.

Or maybe… that was exactly the problem. We never made it this far. Everything else prior has been reprised and redone to death. But this? This was new. And it was all riding on his shoulders.

Another moment passed, and too long a moment for the quiet to continue going unnoticed. Remelda darted her eyes awkwardly. Tressa shifted in place uncomfortably. Still glaring, still silent, Leonardo's lips tightened… quivered. All the while, the brunt and weight of Terestra's gaze whittled away at his physique.

Then I saw it, from beyond the scene, beyond the thin veil of reality and fiction; the silent acceptance, the total defeat from the man in the chair, ready to leave, ready to give, and I knew something had to be done.

So I did. Taking a big step, a deep breath.

"Why did you send him here?" I asked, veering every pair of eyes from both sides of the veil toward my direction.

Switch roles, Leon suggested. What a stupid idea, honestly. Try as I might, I know that there was no way in hell I could ever play my father. Hell, even he couldn't do it.

But go as myself?

I could work with that.

Maybe.

"Well, well," Terestra said, a bigger, keener smile looming before me. "And just who might you be?"

I took another breath, feeling my heartbeat ripple through every vein in my body. Amanda was right. This was nerve-wracking.

"You may call me Chester if the lady should so wish," I bowed my head, returning her smile. "And I'm ever so pleased to make your acquaintance."