My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

"Keep going," was her last order before disappearing into a clutter of branches and bushes. "Maybe you may be able to take that jealousy of yours and use it to push yourself past the line. Worth a try, don't you think? Go."

Jealous? Me?

Okay, maybe.

I know I'm the last person possible to be having gripes about my girlfriend being left alone with other dudes… especially when I don't actually have any solid foundation for those aforementioned gripes.

It's not as if I've jumped all the way into the deep end and believe that every guy who's even batted an eye in her general direction was an abhorrent act of deep betrayal on her part.

But I'd be lying if I said that the attention she does garner doesn't bother me at all even in the slightest. The same goes for everyone else too… which I'm aware was all kinds of hypocritical, considering that's exactly what I was doing to them with each other.

Whatever though—I'm supposed to be focusing on my training here. I don't have time to mope over stupid, nonsensical stuff like that.

I got back to position, ridding all the thoughts in my head save for a singular focus, and that was to keep improving, to keep going. However, it only took a measly five minutes before I realized I wasn't seeing any improvement—in fact, I was getting worse. I didn't even manage to reach the line on my last attempt.

Now, it could be that I was still very much distracted from all the things I was thinking of earlier, making it all but definitive that between stupid insecurities or self-improvement, my brain knows exactly what to prioritize. Or also maybe… I was just simply tired.

I think I'm just tired. Let's go with that. Flay anyone who says otherwise.

Anywhere in this sprawling meadow of auburn leaves and aspen trees would be an ideal spot to sit and recoup. Then there's Adalia, with petals and leaves lying sprawled in the puffy furls of her dress and plenty of room right next to her in her little ring of wildflowers.

And when presented with such options, the truth of the matter was—there was no option. Choice is but an illusion and free will's a blatant lie.

"Mind if I sit here?" I asked politely, carefully navigating through the many stalks and stems of tulips and poppies that surrounded her. "I mean… Irene didn't say I could… but it'll be alright if I take a little break first, right?"

Don't know why I was drumming up an attempt for her sympathies. I highly doubt Adalia would be as strict as Irene. Still, she is here as her assistant… who's to say she didn't give her a few guidelines and rules for her to enforce?

Luckily, permission to sit beside her was officially granted to me with the briefest, subtlest nod of the head. I wasted no time in getting myself comfortable, taking the strain off my legs and throwing my body entirely into the soft bed of grass. It didn't take long for all the wear and tear I accumulated to swell up and leave my body in the form of one long blissful sigh.

Fighting the urge to just simply close my eyes and let Mother Nature lull me away in her gentle green arms, I turned my attention to Adalia, and though the sight of her alone proved already sufficient enough to keep me captivated for hours on end… I was more inclined to stare at her fingers, watching her as seemed to be preoccupied with fiddling around with the small gathering of foliage she had on her lap.

"So," I spoke up, deciding to engage in a little small talk with her. "You've been watching—how do you think I did?"

"Good…" Adalia muttered under a feeble breath. "Good enough…"

Good enough, huh? Well, it's not as assuring and embellished as Irene had put it, but, somehow, defying all forms of logic, I felt a lot more placated after hearing her take.

"Any tips on how to get past the second line? Right now, it's looking pretty impossible."

"No… tips…" she replied, gently lifting and pinching the ends of a petal between her fingers. "Just be… patient…"

Basically, exactly what Irene said. Understood. Maybe I am being a bit too hasty in improving. Actually, it might just be paranoia at play here—the anxious urge to know that if the next big disaster strikes, if it'll even ever will, I'll be well-equipped to handle it then.

But I can't always let that influence me, can I? 'Least not to the point of hampering my own progress.

Now that I think about it, I never did get the chance to see how far Irene could have reached if she had tried. I bet she'd be far, past the third line at the very least.

What she's done, what she's been through to be able to reach that far… I could only imagine.

The same goes for Adalia. Sure, natural talent and inheritance play a big part in it… but with how massive a shockwave she was able to generate with just her raw magic alone… you can't tell me she hasn't spent a large chunk of her life honing her abilities to their peak. And that's already on top of fighting off a debilitating condition in her every waking moment.

Truly… she's something else.

I could easily go on and on singing her praises to the highest of heaven, the measure of her strength, the depths of her fortitude… but then I saw her again still with a stray petal between the pointed tips of her nails, before slow and delicate, she returned the lost petal to the flower that belonged it, miraculously reattaching the stray piece back to it pistil and making it whole once more… and at once, all my inner thoughts came to a stop.

"Did you just… unpluck that flower?"

Another nod as she plucked another petal from her lap.

"The petals… all fell… when I showed you… what to do…" she said, mending another flower next to her to a full blossom. "I am… putting them all… back… make them… better again…"

Ladies and Gentlemen: the ever fearsome Matriarch of the night.

I spent a minute watching her mend and reattach a few more petals, doing my damndest not to melt into a gooey puddle from the dazzling brightness of her fairytale princess-like act, before I realized what she was actually doing in order to pull off her benevolent deed.

Scooting, I leaned in closer for a better look as she withdrew her fingers away from a grateful pink tulip made whole once more. "That's healing magic you're doing, right?"

"Yes…" Adalia replied simply—as if what she'd been doing the whole time was worthy of no mention or regard.

"That's… that's supposed to be hard to do, isn't it?" I said, harkening back to all the times I've been told of its complexity and risk. "How exactly are you…?"

"Flowers… are easy… " she said, unplucking another. "Leaves… petals… stems… they are simple…" Slowly whirling around, she glanced at me. "But people… flesh… bone… soul…" and batted those gray, misty eyes of hers. "They are… harder… much… harder…."

And just when I was thinking that I could have been vastly overestimating the exact difficulty of the process, the vapid gleam of her gaze brought me sinking right back into the harsh reality of it.

"I see," I said, my voice sounding much lower than I anticipated it to. "Makes sense."

Adalia silently went back to restoring the meadow to pristine condition… but honestly, the small clump she had on her lap was like a meaningless fraction compared to how many were scattered all over the place. Nevertheless, she persisted… and how was I seriously supposed to turn a blind eye to such tenacity?

"Maybe I can help," I suggested, taking a petal off the ground. "Come, show me how you're doing that… we'll get this done in no time."

Adalia paused for a moment, staring down the petal between my fingers, pondering her response.

"Irene's… the teacher…" she said, gently plucking the piece from my fingertips before veering away to find its plant of origin. "Let her teach you… what she plans to teach… you…"

"Yeah, well, you're her assistant, aren't you?"

"Yes…"

"Then isn't it basically your moral obligation to assist me if I need help?"

"Yes…"

"Especially when she's isn't here to teach right now, yes?"

"I... suppose..."

"So are you going to assist me?"

"No…"

This girl…

"I aim here… to assist," she continued to speak. "But not… for this…"

For this?

"Then for what?" I pressed her. "What else does she need you for exactly?"

It took her a long time to answer. Long enough that I thought she opted to ignore me entirely.

"Whatever… else… she needs…"

Yeah, no, that's definitely not vague and suspicious one bit. I'm not starting to suspect a thing at all. No sir.

"Like what? What are her instructions?"

"Not... fool around... with you..." she said as her first example and struggled with the second. "Not... not play around... with you..."

"I think those two are the same thing."

"Oh..."

"Adalia," I pronounced her name clearly and firmly, and almost at once she broke eye contact with motions absent of her usual sluggishness. "Be honest. There's more to you being here than just helping train me, isn't there?"

This time she really was opting to ignore me, preferring instead to devote her attention to the little bits of grass sticking to the furled hems of her dress. That's perfectly fine though—leaves plenty of opportunity for my mind to start coming up with countless explanations for why.

"Let's see now," I began to speculate, smirking as she slinked her gaze down even further. "Today's my birthday. And I know Irene definitely has something planned for the occasion. Out of nowhere, you show up. Apparently, you were here yesterday too, weren't you? You'd think Irene would let me know days beforehand if today's lesson will involve another person, right? Unless, of course, that person happened to be a last-minute addition… and for something else entirely at that. But what could that something be, I wonder?"

"You are… overthinking… it…"

I almost burst into laughter at that. The sudden bluntness of her rebuttal. "I'm overthinking?"

"Yes…" Adalia raised her head again, meeting my skepticism with a total blank stare. And I gotta admit it, it sells her claim quite well. But luckily, I'm too used to those eyes to ever believe potential lies. "Over... thinking..."

"Yeah, right... like I'm just supposed to—"

"Taste this…"

Suddenly, she jutted her hand out toward me. I flicked my eyes down and saw a single blade of grass resting in her palm. What did she say? Taste it? Like I'm just gonna let her change the topic with something as absurd as that.

"No point denying it, Adalia," I told her. "Easier for you if you just fess up now."

"Taste…"

"I promise you, Irene won't know a thing—alright? So, what's the plan? You trained the birds to chirp Happy Birthday? Is Irene actually gonna come back here with a big cake that you two slave away making yesterday, or—"

"Taste… it…" she stretched her arm further, the tip of her claws faintly sinking into my shirt with a light prod. "...please…"

She sounded somewhat impatient, insistent. I decided to indulge her—figured I might as well see what she was up to before I continued. I let my eyes fall once more from her unblinking gaze to the singular blade of grass she was practically shoving against my chest.

I picked it up, the entire strand completely disappearing between my fingers; that's how small the thing was.

"And so?" I asked, swaying it, studying it, wondering what was so special about it. "What's this supposed to be?"

"Grass…"

Amazing.

"And you want me to, what—put it in my mouth?"

She nodded her head. "Taste it…"

Naturally, I wasn't readily compliant with her request for obvious reasons. And whether it was the look on my face, the groan squeaking out of my lips, or some other tell that I was being super discreet about, Adalia was quick to notice… and clarify.

"Plants… are special…" she explained, plucking another blade from her lap and held it out in front of her. "They are able… to absorb… magic… very easily…"

Hearing that, I gave my portion a closer look, and from what I could tell, nothing seemed amiss about it.

"And if… absorbed… applied… a certain way…" Adalia parted her lips a tiny bit, and in went her piece with a light chomp of her fangs. "Its properties… changes…" She then smacked her mouth, licked her lips. "It becomes… delicious…"

I carefully hung on to her every word, absorbing it, interpreting it in a way that I could comprehend. After watching her demonstration, my reluctance whittled away more and more.

"So what you're saying is… you've charged this blade of grass with your magic?"

"Yes…"

Again, with that affirmation, I went back to absorbing, interpreting, slowly raising the strand close to my lips. More and more, that reluctance.

"So basically if I eat this blade of grass…" I said, feeling it blow and sway with my breath as I spoke. "I'm tasting you?"

Adalia made a blink, then… she nodded.

"Yes…"

I've never smacked my lips with my hand so fast and so hard in my entire life than I did right then. I felt the blade brush the tip of my tongue and like a zombie gnawing at flesh, I began to chew and as I did so, I could sense it—taste it.

The sudden sweetness—coating my entire mouth like a flood of honey. With each bite I took, the flavor became more potent, delectable… and as such it was growing more irresistible.

I didn't even realize it had all gone until I heard the hard clack of my teeth bashing against each other. My mouth was still pulsating with the taste like I've just devoured an entire can of mints, confirming what I already knew as irrefutable truth.

Adalia was an absolute snack.

"More…?" she tempted me, slicing a handful of grass with a swipe of a finger and letting it all fall in her hand. She presented it before my wanting eyes, peeking just over it, the slightest ghost of a smirk on her pale lips. "They can be... tastier too... I can make them... tastier for... you..."

And that's when I realize I've been successfully baited, distracted. Hook, line, and sinker. The questions that needed answering, the surprise she was hiding… aah… goddamn it.

Well, maybe just a bit more.

I can always ask later.