My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

It was louder now.

The rambunctious cheers, the high chimes of flutes echoing harmoniously with the soft strum of strings, and other lively noises of the same note gave away the vibrant and vivid impression of a township rife with fanfare.

"They have a red carpet rolled out too?" I said, finally calling attention to it. "I mean, I know it's my birthday and all… but don't you think this is a little much now?"

"I'd have gone bigger," Ruria was quick to reply, her tone as dry as her smirk. "Fireworks, an entire dance number, ten-foot-tall cake. Only makes sense for someone of your grand eminence and stature."

"A country boy working as a full-time barista?"

"And I'd give that modesty a whole lot more if only you'd take it. Unfortunately, you being you means you're just much too modest to try."

"Not tonight, remember? You got a shameless bastard of your own making tonight. Do your worst, I'll take whatever you got to throw at me."

Ruria rolled her eyes the other way and scoffed. "See, you say that. But we both know you're just saying that."

"It's true whether you wanna believe it or not," I told her. "Either way, you'll find out soon enough."

Her gaze was still in the opposite direction, but on the corner of her lips was that same devilish curl. "I'll hold you to that."

There was suddenly a bang of a drum, or at least I think it was and not an entire battalion of cannons letting it rip next to my eardrums with how quickly I felt my heart nearly leapfrog out of my throat from the resulting blast.

The Neplims reacted even worse. All I could remember was the blur of fur, the frantic scurry of paws, and within a span of a split-second, the three heavenly creatures had scattered off into the wind; the brief time we spent together always to be remembered and cherished by the throbbing sting the striped one had left all over my hands.

"That bang might have just set back Neplim-People relations by 50% at the very least," Ruria remarked, watching wistfully as they vanished into the tall grass. "Oh well... not that it matters anymore now, does it?"

Another bang banged again. And I don't know if it's because I've become partially deaf due to the last one but it didn't seem as loud. Alas, that didn't make it much less of an annoyance though.

"That doesn't bother you?" I asked, still hearing the lingering buzz in my ears. Now more than ever, I was laser-focused on whatever the hell kind of commotion was happening in that town. "I'd asked what that is, but I get the feeling you'd much prefer if I found out for myself. Another surprise?"

"Well, I don't know about you, but it sounds like they might be having a celebration of some kind to me."

"Incredible, detective," I deadpanned. "Brilliant deduction. Just how do you keep doing it?"

Ruria answered with a haughty shrug. "Eyes."

The cheek on this woman lately… it's like she's channeling Ria. Or at the very least, the influence's very much present there alright.

After a couple of minutes of more walking, we finally arrived at the source of my encroaching headache, and surprise, surprise—it was a celebration.

People just flew right by us, both ways not a single person would bat an eye at us, like we weren't even there, which, yeah, I suppose that tracks. With no one watching, I had free rein to wander and soak in much of the bustling festivities.

The cobble-paved streets littered with flower petals flung merrily from baskets swaying about in the arms of children running amok. Every building we passed by was adorned with some sort of brightly colored tapestry hanging from window sills and open doorways.

Music was everywhere too, funneling through narrow alleys, the sing-along humming of passersby; I hadn't glimpsed a single instrument yet, but I suppose it only makes sense that if you're gonna perform somewhere, it'd probably be deeper in the heart of town.

So many obvious hints, and yet the question remains.

"I have no idea what's going on," I said out loud.

Ruria plucked a single flower from the basket of an oblivious young girl running to catch up with her other petal-scattering friends. She took a moment to admire her catch, as did I.

It looked almost like a rose. It certainly had the folds, the shape, the only change from what I'm accustomed to was the color of its petals. Not red, not even confined to the tradition of having a single color.

Instead, it had multiple, or actually, it had all of them—rippling and shifting like ocean waves of pigments before suddenly subsiding and staying as polar shades of purple in the outer ridges, stripes of white layered across the middle, blending finally into a bright gold around the innermost bud.

"Purple, white, and gold," Ruria said, twirling the stem between her fingers with her gaze narrowed in a strange look of intrigue. "Your turn. Hold it."

"What?"

"Hold it," she took my wrist, planting the flower in my palm before gently closing my fist around it. "Ai'noramento Syringa, we call it—the flower of love. Don't let go now."

As she spoke, the petals on the flower began to swirl and shift once more in my grip.

"It's a rare flower that only exclusively blooms in this season. In its natural state, it is pure white. It's only when it is held by someone that its true magnificence is finally revealed."

"Flower of love…" I muttered, the detail clicking like the final piece to the puzzle. All the merriment, happiness, and petals flung about. "Ah, so this is why you brought us here. This is a celebration of love, isn't it? Like some kind of a more magical version of Valentine's Day?"

"Kind of, I suppose," she beamed at me. "Look, the flower. Your colors are showing."

The shifting finally stopped, and atop the narrow stem in my fingers, I was left with a pattern of colors that was vastly different from Ruria's. Green, silver, and red in that order.

Me being a complete stranger to the customs, that bizarre string of colors meant absolutely nothing to me. Irene on the other hand let out a small dejected sigh.

"What's up?" I asked, concerned.

"It's a popular superstition around here, you see," she began, taking the flower back from me, its petals reverting to its prior scheme in the twirl of her fingers. "Sharing a single color means you might be good for each other. Sharing two means you'll have a healthy, lasting relationship. And if you share all three… then that's all the proof you need to know that you were absolutely meant to be. Soulmates, you could say."

Now, I get the disappointment. Compare her colors to mine side-by-side… yeah, no two pairs could be any further apart. They're so different, they may as well be a bad omen.

"Well," I sighed as well. "That sucks."

"I heard of instances back then of couples breaking up solely because one or more colors don't match," Ruria said. "They seriously believed the relationship might be doomed from the start."

"In that case, you rather we break it off now? Save us both the trouble?"

Ruria shot me a leer from the side, and in response, simply tossed the flower behind her. Now empty-handed, she went and took my hand into hers.

"I think I'll take my chances," she said confidently. "Not like you believe in superstitions, do you?"

"I'll believe in whatever you believe."

"Then I believe I'd like you to stay my boyfriend for a while longer, alright?" Ruria said, spurring forward with a start, sending me tumbling along in her stride. "There's still a lot more I'd like to show you."

Ensnared In her tight hold, I couldn't refuse even if I wanted to. Deeper into town, swerving around the corner, plunged into even greater, more extravagant displays of festivities.

Stalls adorned with all sorts of ornaments, carriages winding down the roads emblazoned with banners and flags billowing with the breeze. People cheering, laughing, and those even closer, holding hands and clinging to each other's tender embrace.

At the sight of it, I could feel my breath leave me again.

"Y'know, compared to the Valentine's Day we typically get," I slowly said. "It seems like you guys take love and relationships to a whole 'nother level here."

"Except, you'd be a little wrong about that," Ruria said, smirking and sinking her head a little.

"Meaning what exactly?"

"This is a festival of love," she continued. "But it's probably not the kind of love you currently have in mind. Take that flower from before, for example"

"The one that symbolizes love," I said, feeling my brows furrow further the more she spoke.

"Love is just one of the things it symbolizes," she said. "Its other, more prominent designation is being a flower that signifies death."

I paused. "Death?"

"Sweet, loving Death," Ruria nodded in turn.

"So…" again, I paused. Hearing everything, seeing everything, the joy, and exhilaration encapsulated so far and wide. "You're saying this festival's actually…?"

"For Death, yes," Ruria finished for me. "And her unconditional love toward us all."