My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

Chapter 627: An Elf’s Tale, Part 3

An hour must have passed, or maybe it had already been two... or perhaps none at all. The sun remained a stagnant beam of light in the sky, never falling, the time never passing.

Huddled beneath the enormous shadow of an even bigger tree, Eshwlyn gandered the boundless horizon before her, vast green pastures swaying along to the freeing breeze of the wind... and yet in spite of it, she’s never felt more confined, more trapped than she did right then.

A tuft of white hair protruded out of a nearby patch of flowers. Lenora tended to sulk in private, scampering off someplace she couldn’t be seen. With nothing else to do, she fell back into familiar habits, plucking petals and tearing stalks, making something of the greenery, anything... and she did so in an unusual tense quiet.

Eshwlyn wanted to call for her, but now that the shouting had finally stopped, there was this sort of fragile peace that hung between them... a peace where if she dared even make the slightest sound, somehow it’d shatter.

She shouldn’t have shouted. She shouldn’t have said anything in the first place. What spouting those foolish things managed to do was bring to ruins what was once a cherished tender moment. Finally, after so long, after so much pain, worry, finally, she was given a chance to meet with her sister again...

‘And you accused her of being selfish,’ the voice of utter shame echoed relentlessly in her head.

An eternity might have passed, and finally, Lenora emerged out from the billowing meadow. Sullenly, the little Elf slowly shambled over to the tree where Eshwlyn rested, settling down, maintaining a distance not too close... but yet also not too far.

.....

She was also carrying something in her hands, something she laid to her side and hid just barely out of sight. Lenora was glancing at her, obviously so, and inversely, Eshwlyn felt an invisible pressure forcing her own eyes to the ground instead.

“You know, you never told me,” came the stuffy, raspy somber tone of Lenora’s voice. “How did you get here? How did... how did you earn the privilege to be able to be with me again?”

It was without thought, raising her stare, locking their gazes. Lenora stiffened, and she did too. But the little Elf did not veer away and continued on with a slight waver.

“I know... I know about Elf-Knights. I know about what the Hendrick people do to our kind... and I know what they want to do with you. And I also know how they’re usually treated by their Masters, how you’re treated by yours... I’m just wondering, because... your Master, he... from what I heard of him from Terra... he isn’t the type to willingly let you see me, is he? He wouldn’t give you that kindness, so... you must have done something for him, haven’t you? Something that made him very happy with you?”

Eshwlyn parted open her lips, but it was not her that answered the question.

“Oh, very happy, indeed,” it was like thunder rumbling in the clear sky, a sharp splinter piercing into her finger running it against coarse wood, hearing those words, hearing that voice. “In fact, I daresay I don’t ever recall being this pleased with a Servant since Tilina... and without a doubt, Eshwlyn, you’ve superseded any and all prior satisfaction.”

Suddenly, Wilvur was there. From nowhere, Wilvur was here... his echoes leading back to a familiar daunting figure sauntering through the grass plains towards them.

It was a mixture of dread, fear, and honed instinct that had Eshwlyn immediately rising to her feet. Nothing else mattered, nothing else should matter, quickly lowering herself into a bow, in a glimpse, seeing Lenora’s unnerved reaction, as she spoke, “Master...”

How was he here? Why was he here? Among various other pressing questions swirling in a panic within her mind, Eshwlyn instantly drowned out. Right now, pleasing him was all that mattered, serving was all she had to do... to displease him now, upset him... so close to Lenora especially... she must avoid it at all cost.

When Eshwlyn raised her head again, Wilvur stood behind the very edge of the tree’s ruffling shadow. In the light of the sun, he looked much paler, his scarlet eyes gleaming much brighter, his imposing stature aided further by the lavishness of his clothes, lined in buttons of gold and straps of silver, and garnished in a velvet finish.

His eyes slowly alternated between the pair of siblings, a smile gradually widening, before ultimately narrowing down and focusing upon the smallest of the two. Eshwlyn could feel the beat of her own heart pounding agonizingly in her ears.

“I see you have not wasted time spoiling yourself in one another’s affections, Eshwlyn,” Wilvur spoke, glancing back at her from the corner of his eyes. “Look at this, bless her heart, there are still tear marks present on your sister’s face.”

Then with a cordial air that felt like nothing but ice, Wilvur lowered a knee and extended a gloved hand out towards Lenora. “Hello there, little one... I am that Hendrick fellow that you were referring to just now. But if it’s all the same to you, henceforth, just Wilvur will be fine. And may I just say... I am in awe of your firm grasp on the human tongue... you’re likely the only Elf of your age with such a talent. It’s truly admirable.”

Both to Eshwlyn’s dismay and relief, Lenora did not offer her own hand back. All this while, her unblinking green eyes staring as if studying him, assessing him, before...

“I know you,” the little Elf whispered, a controlled calm in her voice. “You were there. When I was looking for my sister, you and your people, you-”

“A regrettable mistake, I assure you,” Wilvur stated grimly, withdrawing his hand away. “If I had just known, if I had just realized how truly frail of an Elf you really were... but alas, what’s done is done... all that matters is that we are now past it, yes?”

“Um, Master?” Eshwlyn interjected, careful to deflect any hint of distress in her inflection. “If I may, what brings you here all of a sudden? I was under the impression you were too deeply immersed in your affairs to address me... much less... directly visit me...

“Hmm?” Wilvur cocked a brow, rising back to his usual intimidating height. “Am I perhaps imposing on something with my presence, Eshwlyn?”

No, of course not, I would never insinuate such a...” she trailed away, her eyes futilely scouring the empty horizon for aid. “And... and what of the Magus, Terra? Wouldn’t you have needed her aid in order to traverse? Where is-”

“You pompous prick!”

Another loud echo shot across the air, and there, instantly blinking into reality, strode a furious Terra rapidly towards the three of them, her piercing blue eyes, staring, contrasting, with the deep red of Wilvur’s.

“Come now, my dear Magus,” Wilvur gently reprimanded, turning around to face the violent flutter of robes coming to an instant halt. “Is there really a need for such vulgarity?”

“If I came deliberately crashing into one of the windows of your manor, by all means, call me a bitch! For what you’ve done now is precisely the equivalent of that,” sniped Terra. “This is my tower, my rules, I would sincerely appreciate it if you paid heed to them!”

Wilvur maintained a smile, unfazed in the face of her ire. “The threshold was already open. It seemed only convenient.”

“It was open for me to escort her back out!” She retorted, the words hissing out through gritted teeth. “Not for you to barge in unannounced! As the Magus of this tower, I did not give you the right! You are not allowed within this place!”

“Please, Terra,” Wilvur said with a remorseful look. “I truly meant no disrespect to you and your domain with my actions. As I’ve mentioned to you, I simply wish for my Servant to return back into my fold.”

“You’re taking her back?” Lenora suddenly said, outright placing herself between the heated engagement. “But... she just got here...”

“Your sister has reaped her reward for long enough already,” Wilvur calmly explained. “And now, as a Master, I am in need of my Servant’s aid once more.”

“That is not fair.”

“Lenora...” Eshwlyn threw her sister a warning look. “Do not...”

“Fair...” Wilvur repeated, chuckling, marveling at Lenora again. “Yes, I suppose it really isn’t. Does that upset you?”

“Wilvur!” a loud flap of a cloak, and Terra firmly stepped in. “Leave. Take your Elf, and go. Just go.”

For once, Wilvur was absent of a jibe, a retort, blinking only once, before complying with the slightest nudge of his eyes, “Very well. Thank you for your service.” Then with a single knowing glance exchanged between them, Eshwlyn hurried close back to her Master’s side without a single glance back.

As they ambled through the meadow, a familiar bead of pure light began to glow at a distance, slowly manifesting into a doorway of light beaming, glimmering, swirling a void of pure white within.

“No time to waste,” Wilvur said, pacing to the edge of the threshold first. “Firstly, we will head back to the manor, where you will then-”

“Wait!”

A loud echo, a tiny voice.

Lenora had followed them, and there in her hands, she tightly held the very same ‘something’ that Eshwlyn wasn’t quite able to discern before. But now, but here, she now saw, she now know... and she had to fight the emotions threatening to overflow....

The most vibrant of colors, the most prettiest of petals, in her little hands, she presented Eshwlyn with a wreath of flowers, hastily made, clumsily fastened, but despite it all, perfectly crafted.

“Oh,” Wilvur remarked, staring vacantly, almost stiffly. “That’s lovely...”

“I’m sorry... for before...” Lenora whispered, standing on tiptoe and putting the wreath over her head, before bolting at her, nearly toppling the crown over, wrapping her arms around in another deep embrace. “You will come back... won’t you?”

It was a question she didn’t have the answer to, a request she wasn’t sure possible to be fulfilled... but for her sister, for her, hearing the unbridled worry in her voice... it was a promise she didn’t dare break.

“Yes, I will come back,” Eshwlyn said, averting her eyes as much as possible from Wilvur. “I won’t leave you anymore.”

“Eshwlyn,” spoke a quiet voice, echoing a patient wearing dangerously thin. “Now.”

And just like that, with a single step, a flash of light, the lush plains around her disappeared, and with a blink, she found herself staring straight at the grooved surface of a stone wall.

“Best we hurry,” Wilvur said, already striding for the spire’s exit beside her. “After we have you dressed and equipped at the manor, we will be traveling far to the east of the province. It’ll be a long arduous few weeks ahead of us, that’s for certain.”

“Master, wait! Hold on,” Eshwlyn broke into a sprint, her mind flustered by the sudden swarm of information. “Forgive me, but did I hear you right? We will be heading east? Me? Traveling with you? But why?”

It was with a smile that Wilvur met her bewildered gaze. “Because you have proven yourself befitting for more. Your training is complete. Your preparations start now. And Henceforth, you will be taking the necessary steps, gaining the necessary experience, in order for you to be one step closer to becoming the Elf-Knight you were always meant to be.”

“And soon,” He exclaimed, the twinkle of ambition gleaming full and bright deep in his wide scarlet eyes. “The day of your Conversion will finally be upon us... and then, and only then, will you in your entirety finally belong only to me.”

Hearing his words bare as it was filled her with nothing but a peculiar sense of dread. This Conversion, this ambition he wished, he strove for... what exactly did it entail for her? But more importantly... what did it mean for Lenora?

“But in the meantime...” Wilvur said, his eyes reverting back to its normal aloof shimmer. “I suppose you should focus on acquiring more rewards in the future, hm?”