My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

The slow crunch, and the sudden snap.

No better pair of sounds to leave oneself sighing in frustration from their own sheer incompetence. Or at least I think they would be for anyone who'd found themselves sharing my current predicament—massacring whole families of tree branches.

If there ever existed a literal Mother Nature, I'd be long disowned by her at this point. But now that I say that, there's bound to be one, isn't there? That's just how things work in this wacky world that is my reality. I'm already expecting to be lynched with grass by her in my sleep later tonight.

For the time being, I might as well perfect the perfect stick while I'm still alive. 'Least then, it all would have been worth it, and I can then face the transgressions I made against the nice lady with a smile on my face.

Figuratively speaking, of course.

Arguably, this assignment Irene's got me doing was more disheartening than the one before it. When slamming my palms against the earth, there's no having false hope with that one. You either cause a tremor or look like a complete idiot. Clear transparency.

Snapping branches? Total emotional manipulation of the umpteenth degree.

First, it lulls you in, raises your expectations—no matter how much force you exert on the branch, it does not yield, it does not bend. You're shocked, you're happy, you think you finally got it, then you give it just another single gram of pressure… and just like your dreams, your lifelong aspirations… there they rest, splintered into pieces in the palm of your hands.

Nevertheless, I'd move on to the next branch and simply repeat the process all over again. Like I always do. And sure enough, like with all things I put my hardheadedness toward, I got better. My sticks were getting stronger.

From easily snapping them without so much as a flick of a wrist to having to put them on the dirt and under my shoe, tugging hard at the ends to even get the slightest flex.

Soon, new sounds sprouted up and would quickly outnumber the pair I had grown tolerantly accustomed to; another duo consisting of my heaves and my grunts as I continued to try and try to fail to break the latest piece of wood in my grip.

Haven't failed yet to break one yet, but I was definitely getting there.

"What… are you… doing…?"

I gasped, spewing a torrent of my accumulated effort to snap the slimmest, flimsiest twig I had yet. Heaving. Grunting. Except I just couldn't… and apparently, I was letting the whole world know about it. Loudly.

Off in the distance, slowly shambling out of the rustling shadow of a tree, Adalia had the faintest look of confusion swirling in the gray of her bleary eyes. And seeing as I was surrounded by scattered fragments of wood, perspiration pouring down my brows, and desperately in need of air… yeah, I'd be looking a bit skeptical too.

"Sorry," I said, collapsing back down onto the grass. "Forgot you were sleeping there. Did I disturb you?"

"Yes…"

Well, at least she's honest about it.

"What… are you… doing…?" she repeated.

"Oh, this? Check this out," I held the stick I had in my hand out in front of her, beaming with pride through all the, maybe not blood, or tears, but definitely sweat. "Irene has me learning how to meld my magic to objects. It took a while, but this stick is as strong as I'll ever make it. Won't budge no matter what I do to it. Care to give it a try?"

I should have seen it coming, frankly. But I was blinded. Blinded by confidence, by triumph and I paid the price for it.

Adalia raised a single finger forward, and without so much as blink, cleaved one end of the stick with a swipe of her nail. I watched the piece fall, the smile frozen on my face, the sense of satisfaction shriveling up deep inside, and I was reminded once more of the true lesson of the entire process.

Pain.

"That was… your best…?" she asked.

I took the stick back, what remained of it anyway, and just glumly nodded back in shame.

"You can… do better…" she said. "You are… strong…"

"Yeah, I know. In time, with practice, all that good stuff," I muttered, looking back up at her. "I just wish it was a little faster."

Shrugging off the disappointment, I went and picked up a new branch for another attempt. But before I could muster up any focus, it was Adalia's turn this time to disturb my peace.

"Where… is… Irene…?"

There was something about that question. I don't know what it was. Maybe it was the way she said it, or how she promptly proceeded to slowly survey the surroundings for signs of her… either way, it certainly was something.

"Irene's busy clearing up the mess I made of the forest," I answered. "You'll have better luck knowing where she is than I would."

"She is… late…"

Late for?

"It is… nearly time…"

Time for?

I glanced back at Adalia only to find her with her gaze transfixed on the skies above, the evening's warm brilliant glow flushing the paleness of her face with a stark golden radiance. And through the beauty and magnificence in seeing her in such a state, I noticed the vaguest, mutest hint of a frown painted across her lips.

"I will… go look… for her…" she suddenly proclaimed.

Then before I had the chance to ask one out of a swirling dozen questions I had in my head, I was interrupted. Actually, we were both interrupted.

"No need, I'm already here."

Irene emerged from one of the many gaps in the trees… and as she shuffled forward toward us, I couldn't help but get the inkling that something was amiss.

"I see you've been busy," she remarked, quickly flicking her eyes to every discarded branch she came across along the way. "How's progress?"

"Good," I answered, slowing rising back to my feet again. "Care for a demonstration?"

To my surprise, she shook her head. "No need. Actually, I just had you doing this to distract you."

"What?" I said, and that wasn't even a genuine question. That was just a reflex. An instinct stemmed from pure and utter confusion. "This… the melding… you were distracting me?"

"An educational distraction. You're still learning either way. But yes, I needed to keep you busy while I went and set up a few things on the side. I think you already know where this is going, don't you?"

Before she even finished asking, I did. It was really the only thing that made sense.

"My birthday surprise?"

She smiled. "Surprise."

The cat was finally out of the bag. For a moment, I waited. Anticipating something, anything—streamers materializing on the branches, a big cake appearing suddenly in her hands, and I could react with a smile and laughter in kind.

But there was nothing. And in return, I could give nothing.

"What's the surprise?" I blurted out.

"Well, for starters, you were right."

"Was I?"

Irene didn't answer at first, instead choosing to share this almost sneaky, privy look with Adalia—and immediately I knew what exactly I was right about.

"Adalia isn't just here to assist me in teaching you," she confessed, and in place of guilt for lying straight to my face, Irene wore this self-satisfied smirk. "Her true purpose is to help me deliver you your gift, and without her aid, it just wouldn't be possible."

"So…" I locked eyes with Adalia. "Yesterday, when you were gone…"

"I was… helping…" Adalia answered, affirming the very thing she had been avoiding not so long ago. "Practicing…"

"Practicing what?" Now I was looking at both of them, the burning curiosity they both fanned the flames of with their words nearly driving me mad. "What gift do you have for me?"

"Sure you wouldn't rather guess first?" Irene asked in sly.

"No," I said. "Tell," I demanded.

"I'm afraid it's not as simple as that," she said, closing the distance between us with a single step forward. "Better you see it for yourself instead."

"By all means."

"Alright," I felt her slip her hands into mine, the stick dropping to the ground… with her the warmth, the buzz of her touch replacing it, surging through all my senses. "Just tell me when you're ready."

"Ready? Ready for what?" Briefly, I looked to Adalia for answers, still hovering just close by. "Where are we going?"

"Ready?" Irene asked again, even closer now, the glimmer of eagerness in her eyes taking up the entirety of my view.

"Fine," I complied. "Just tell me what to do."

Then she leaned in, her breath in my ear, as her voice, her words practically resounded inside my head.

"Close your eyes."

And with no ounce of hesitation, I did what she said and shut them as tightly as I could.

"Happy Birthday, my sweet Nara'hym." I heard her whisper to me again. "I hope you enjoy your present."