My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

Chapter 485: Unsaid and Unasked

Adalia’s surprise love bite eventually dwindled and settled down to a somewhat tolerable level after a while... and in the end, I still never got to know the difference between getting fanged in the arm or getting fanged in the neck, on account of Adalia’s silence.

A silence that carried on to her gradual slumber, after a feast like the one she passionately partook in, sleep came at her in almost an instant, and by the time I was steady on my knees enough for questioning, a contentful, peaceful expression had already taken over her face as she laid herself curled snugly in my bed sheets.

Cute was an appropriate term to describe her right then, but in my opinion, a more perfect word was baffling... because to her slumbering half-hair-ridden face, I could only fight the urge to shake her silly until she mumbled out some answers, besides... I have more important things to deal with now anyway...

Where the hell is that tent, man?

Apparently nowhere far, as it turns out. When all else fails, just turn to Mom, she’s like the golden retriever of every household, and when I knocked on her bedroom door, desperate and lost, she answered my calls, failing again to disappoint.

“You’ll be sleeping outside tonight, you say?” A quizzical expression rippled across her slanted gaze. “By the lake? Just the two of you? Alone? Together? Ash and you? Sleeping? Side-by-side? Hand-in-hand? Lips-to – ”

“Tent,” I demanded again, reaching out my empty palm, and hoping she’d just plop it in my hands right there and then and just let me go. “You don’t need to know anything else.”

.....

But of course, she couldn’t simply let my metaphorical binds go just yet.

“Just one thing, then,” She muttered, her eyes suddenly going narrow. “Why is your face so pale, dear?”

I couldn’t answer that, mostly due to the fact that I wasn’t even aware of it myself, but she was right – that raised hand of mine, from my fingertips to the end of my arm, I was like a ghost, so white, like I’ve just lost all the blood in my veins or something and...

Oh.

“Oh, hmm?” Mom opened the door a little wider, peered at me a little closer, a teasing smile widening with every passing second, until finally – realization. “Adalia’s a bold one, isn’t she? Oh, my, my...”

At this point, I’m done being surprised about how she knows these things... she just does, alright? She just does. Might as well just get to the point of everything, instead of just gaping at her all slack-jawed like some kind of omniscient god... which she probably was anyway.

“What did she do to me?” I asked, almost too aware of how long I was taking here.

“Well, seems obvious to me that she bit you, didn’t she?” She said, and when she saw that that answer unsurprisingly failed to satisfy, finally relented with more further clarification. “There’s a mark on your neck, dear... a Matriarch’s marking. A very unique, intimate kind.”

“A mar – a marking?” I began to feel around my neck again, feeling only the smoothness of my skin. “What marking?”

“A marking signifying a pledge, a promise... it’s like humans with their rings, you know?” She said, as she fondly fiddled with the silver band around her finger. “Matriarchs... the whole of the Elidnan descendants in general, markings is what they use. The Aerons claw, the Nyermers bleed, and the Vampires bite, it’s that simple. Not to worry, however, the mark will fade in time... but the pledge is forever.”

So many words yet all I could focus on was those first few, and it was those first few that continue to keep ringing inside my empty mind.

“A pledge? A promise?” I repeated, quickly connecting the dots line by line. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Oh, but I don’t know what you’re thinking, dear,” She said, smiling wryly. “I only know what I know. And speaking of which...” suddenly, she poked her out the doorway, tilting a hard left to across the hall. “Tent, sleeping bags... Sammy went camping with her friends some time ago. I’m sure she’s still putting off from putting it back up in the attic. Ask her, alright?”

I didn’t get to ask more about things I wanted to, be it the lack of time, the suddenness of it all, I didn’t get to ask about her paleness, or the nasalness of her voice, or even the tissue pieces stuffed inside of her sleeves. She was already in her nightgown too... and I don’t remember her ever sleeping this early in the evening unless she was... ????????????r????????????. ????om

In any case, to Sammy’s room I went, pestering her peace with three knocks on her door. After a grumble, and a begrudging groan, I heard the muffled spring squeak of her bed, and promptly after, her door flew open... revealing a very disheveled, very disgruntled little sister with stress strands all over.

“What do you want?” She asked, blinking once.

“Tent, sleeping bags,” I said, getting straight to the point. “Mom said you have ’em?”

“What for?” Sammy drearily asked, batting the same dull blinks. “I doubt this is really the time for some camping.”

“Just – ”

“And why are you so pale?” Like Mom, she then promptly peered a little closer at me. “And the hell is that on your neck?”

“Sammy,” I stretched out both arms at her, I really didn’t feel like explaining right now. “Please give.”

Yet alas, what good indeed is a little snobbish sister if she is not as well privy to information that has absolutely no relevance nor association to her? The 24/7 nosy little devil stayed rooted at the spot, glancing suspiciously.

“Not until I know why you need ’em,” She said, arms folded in a resolved, determined stance. “You have your room, why are you sleeping outside?”

“Because the world is a beautiful, wondrous place,” I deadpanned. “And I really love to admire its beautiful wondrous-ness, so if you really don’t mind...”

I tried slinking through the doorway with a sidestep, only to then be immediately halted by a hand pressing firmly against my chest. Sammy looked back at me, her bright blue eyes thinking, wondering, widening... then realizing.

“You don’t think the world is beautiful and wonderful,” She muttered in a low, profound whisper. “It’s Ash, isn’t it? Beautiful, wonderful... admiring? Don’t tell me you – Oh my God, it’s – oh, bro...”

“Sammy...”

“Are you serious right now? Do you – Is this really the right – ?” Sammy took a big, long, painful breath, grimacing hard, but after she managed to regain her bearings, she shifted slowly to the side, turning her body horizontally and making space. “It’s under my bed – take it yourself.”

Times like these, words would only serve to make things worse, so I kept my mouth puckered in and just silently shuffled in, giving her a little appreciative nod in thanks.

Her room remained the same as ever. The same light pink palette on all four walls. Posters of characters from her favorite shows and movies took up most of the free spaces, and I noticed there were some new ones added to the collection.

Trophies and medals both academically and athletically adorned her shelves with bright glimmers of gold and silver, and picture frames commemorating trips and special events lined up all the rest.

There was a lot of me and her showing in those frames there, from down to up, it was kinda like an age chart: Her first day in preschool, clinging to my arm and refusing to let go. Her first horseback riding, sitting up there with me in front of the saddle, as I took control of the reins. There was one with us swimming in the lake, another when we went on a cruiser. Her friends were in some of the pictures too, but it felt as if they all kinda took a backseat to the dense amount of her and me... quite unusually, really...

But I didn’t have the luxury to stare and wonder, I needed to get the stuff I needed and bounce out, no questions asked.

Sammy was staring away at me the whole time I was poking around beneath her bed in a slump defeated hunch. I was actually half-expecting her to start puking at any time from the expression I saw permanently stuck on her face, but surprisingly enough she managed to hold it in.

“You really do love that Elf, don’t you?”

At first, I thought I was only hearing things – awkwardness was close friends with paranoia after – but then I noticed her prior disgust had gradually dwindled to something more... pensive feeling.

“I’m pretty sure you know that already,” I said, heaving out a large dusty bag where everything was stored. “But sure, I’ll answer again – I do.”

“Does she love you?”

I snorted, swinging the straps around my shoulder. “That’s a stupid question.”

“Answer it anyway,” She said. “Does she love you?”

Asking something like this, there could be an endless amount of reasons as to why she could be, what exactly she was hoping to get, I didn’t know, but nevertheless...

“Of course she does, Sammy,” I replied. “Probably more than I do too.”

Her expression remained unchanged.

“And you know that?

“I believe that,” I immediately said. “Without a doubt.”

A long quiet then fell between us, prompting me to wonder.

“You don’t think so?”

“No, ‘course I do, it’s just that I – ” Sammy heaved a breath, shook her head, and leaned back again. “Nevermind, have fun, then.”

“Sure...”

And with that, I began to shuffle out, bag swaging loose behind my back. Then before her door fully creaked to a close, her voice slipped out from the narrow gap.

“But not too much fun, though...” She said a little sternly. “I’m warning you.”

Hearing a warning like that, I heeded and treated it accordingly... with a faint little chuckle.

“Sure...”