My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

Chapter 623: An Elf’s Tale, Part 2

Her heart refused to keep to a steady rhythm, and everything everywhere surrounding her suddenly seemed so aggravating... little things she’s never taken notice of before were now endless sources of frustration.

Why were they so far away from their destination? Why does the carriage move so unbearably slow? And the deluge of snow that paved the path, jerking the carriage a sudden left and then an abrupt right... why did it have to pour? Why did it have to exist?

“Where had you taken her?” Eshwlyn asked in a rigid calm quiet.

“Master had her transported into a safe place in the neighboring township, rest assured she is unharmed,” said Tilina sitting calm and poised across from her, juxtaposing her own overt restlessness on full display. “Now, please try and have patience.”

“Patience?” She whirled at her, flashing a glare. “You know what you ask me? After everything? After so long? Do you not... so many days... I... I have already been patient.”

It truly felt as if the entire world had devised a plot against her, trying valiantly to prevent her, to stop her... from finally reuniting with her sister.

“You will see her soon enough,” Tilina said, and spoke no more.

.....

Eshwlyn knew this herself already, it was the only reassurance that kept her agitation from escalating... but yet, all the same, why couldn’t soon just come any sooner?

Gradually, from beyond the carriage walls, a commotion could be heard, the distinct sounds of rickety wheels, the shrieking laughter of children, and the general bustle of a lively place. Then after a stifling eternity later, their carriage came to a stop, and Eshwlyn was the first to disembark to the frigid cold outside in a hasty scramble.

A familiar stone archway stood before her, and a frosted iron grille that made out its large gateway. Enclosed behind its iron bars stretched a vast grand courtyard covered in snow that once used to bloom a lush expansive green surrounding a magnificent spiral of stone that towered high into the open sky.

Then suddenly she heard a loud shriek to her side, the frantic scrunch of battered snow. Eshwlyn turned and glanced upon a woman, wide-eyed and terrified, in trembling arms clutching a small little boy close to her chest.

“It is alright! You will not be harmed!” At once, Tilina appeared in a blur at her side, a placating hand outstretched towards the woman. “This Elf is under the servitude of Lord Wilvur himself. As am I, Lady Frila. Surely you must recognize me? Yes, it is I. We have only come here on my Master’s behest, nothing more.”

The woman said nothing, but at the sight of Tilina, her expression slowly did change into one of aversion rather than fright... and quickly strode the opposite way, eager to escape and disappear from the vicinity.

“Go astray again, and you’ll leave me no choice but report you to Master,” Tilina sternly warned as the woman had disappeared from sight. “Remind yourself, you are yet to be converted, you are not a Knight. Your presence alone invites panic and worry. The sight of a stray Elf, especially after the incident you’ve caused prior, did it not occur to you that perhaps wandering alone would be unwise?”

“My sincerest apologies, then...” Eshwlyn said automatically, her focus too tethered to the looming spire ahead of her and the implications it holds. “Is it here? Where Master had chosen to... is she... is she here?”

“Yes,” Tilina replied, the harshness fading from her tone as she slowly faced the sealed entrance. “The Magus, Terra... Master believed her befitting of the task of confining your sister. Behind layers of enchantments and incantations, should you even think of escaping together, you will soon find the prospect short-lived under such intense scrutiny... not that you’ll even be tempted to, I hope.”

Eshwlyn chose not to reply to that, instead opting to take hold of one of the large metal bars and giving it a firm impatient rattle. Behind the gate, within that tower, any second, any moment now... why couldn’t it just be this second, why couldn’t it just be this moment now?

“Have patience,” Tilina repeated again, eyeing her almost wearily. “The Magus knows to meet us at this time. Perhaps she had merely gone inside for a brief moment, understandable, since we did indeed arrive a little-oh, and there she comes. Hmm, a little upset too, if I daresay...”

It must have been decades, centuries, an indefinite amount of time since Eshwlyn felt she had seen her last, but in a strange combination of contradiction, at the same time no time at all.

Terra approached from the otherside of the gate, strands of her raven-black hair jutting out of her tight woolen hood and whipping irritably at her deep blue eyes as they swayed loosely with the arid breeze. She wore a thick blue garb that draped even the shuffle of her feet but alas seemed to do nothing to shelter her from the cold. Shivering, teeth chattering, her snow-flaked brows stiffly began to form a scowl directed squarely towards Tilina.

“I-I thought... p-punctuality was a must... amongst you... K-Knight-folks, h-hmm?” Terra said through quivering lips. “Or is... that just... a p-privilege exclusive to y-your... Masters?”

At once, Tilina did not hesitate to offer her condolences behind a deep bow. “Apologies, but it has been a difficult journey. Unfortunately, the path was covered in-”

“No n-need! I r-refuse to stay and freeze here... hearing your... explanations...” Terra’s eyes then gave a flick, meeting Eshwlyn’s, and a moment after, a more steady tone began to resound. “Anyway, this is the Elf in question, yes? The one with the sister?”

“Indeed,” Tilina began, raising her head. “This is Eshwlyn, and she is-”

“Very good. You may leave us now. I will be able to take care of things from here.”

“Leave?”

“Yes. You have done well here. You may go back to your dear Master now... or whatever it is you Knights like to do.”

“I am... um... I regret to say, but I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“What do you mean? Sure you can,” Terra replied. “It’s simply one foot after the other. It’s not that hard. You’ve done that before.”

There was a brief pause.

“Um, if I may, dear Magus,” the crimson-haired Knight began slowly. “But I’ve been given specific instructions to personally supervise the entire affair and to keep as close an eye as possible.”

“And I am giving you different instructions now,” Terra said, her blank expression betraying the politeness echoing with her words. “My tower is not an open house. It is meant solely for a single occupant to reside in-me, the Magus. I’ve extended my due courtesy and already permitted to harbor a single Elf and offered visitations to another. You enter, and that’s three Elves too many for me to have to tolerate. Do you understand my grievances now?”

Tilina wore a conflicted look, her golden eyes darting indecisive. “I understand this, but I’m afraid I must insist, dear Magus. My Master-”

“If you dare risk it, enter by all means, then,” The Magus interjected. “Afterward, you may go back to your Master and tell him I’m afraid I too have to insist that he does not rely upon my aid any longer, for this is simply too much. You relay this to him, knowing his own dear Knight had compromised his already precarious relationship with this land’s Magus. And I’m sure you are aware just how much he relies upon my continued cooperation, yes?”

Upon hearing and then momentarily considering, Tilina made a decision in haste, and with a relinquishing sigh visible in the air, she gave another deep bow. “Very well, dear Magus. I shall... take my leave. I will inform Master of your stance as well... surely he’ll understand.”

“You do that,” Terra smiled, nodding after the Knight’s ambling figure, disappearing into the door of the carriage with only a final fleeting look back at them both.

A rattling, a fading whinny, and the two of them were finally left alone in each other’s presence. A tension began to pervade, and a swell of urgency quickly rose up her throat. Eshwlyn felt herself swallow, felt something heavy pressing the tip of her tongue, a word, a name... her name...

“Terr-”

In an instant, the sealed gateway sprang wide open, and a tight suffocating grip on her wrist hurled her forward staggering onto the snowy grounds of the tower.

“Not here, don’t speak here. You don’t know me,” sounded a constricted whisper. “Inside. Come inside.”

They did not stop even as they entered and ascended numerous planes of the tower. Terra was breathing rapidly, and the hard grip on her wrist seemed to only tighten. Excitement, dread, panic, worry. Eshwlyn could feel the emotions thundering with her brisk steps.

Finally, seemingly arbitrarily, within the barrenness of a winding corridor, Terra came to a halt. And just as she staggered outside, Eshwlyn found herself stumbling again-only backward. Clumps of wool covered her eyes, soft warm sensations enveloping her entire body in a tightening embrace, and twitching her perked ears, she then heard a quiet whisper, a loud quiver...

“Eshwlyn... oh, Eshwlyn...” Terra’s breath gave a hitch, burying her face deeper in her shabby, tattered clothing. “I didn’t know... I didn’t think you’d... why did this have to happen to you, I cannot fathom...and after all you’ve done... this injustice, it’s unfair, this cruelty! And I... I’m sorry... I’m so sorry...”

Everything disappeared. Her anger, her impatience. And for that brief moment, Eshwlyn did not care that she was human, did not care for the ill-feeling she had harbored for her kind. Right then, she did not see a human, she did not even see an enemy.

All that stood before her then was nothing more than an old friend.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t stop it...” Terra weakly said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you... you didn’t deserve this... none of your kind deserves this...”

And before she knew it, she found herself slowly raising her own arms, reciprocating Terra’s hold with an embrace of her own. For the first time, willingly, gladly, indulging in the gentleness of a human’s touch, the familiar foul scent of her kind permeating greatly.

Yet regardless...

Terra smelled nice.

“It is okay...” Eshwlyn said, thinking of her past impulses, her past ideals, what she’ll usually say, and ultimately finding herself rejecting it all. “It is not your fault...”

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