My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

Chapter 534: The Foil In Success

Irene wasn’t answering me.

It was the total opposite in fact – she was silencing me. The first time I called, I only heard the beep of the dial tone twice before it was abruptly snuffed.

When it came time for a second try the distinct tone of silence came ringing out of the speakers even faster.

I stopped at two, and didn’t bother with a third. Rejection as quick as that – I pretty much got her message loud and clear.

Guess I’ll just settle with leaving her a message instead.

But then, before I could do my finger stretches in preparation for an entire word essay – surprise.

My phone began vibrating in my palms, a call, and muscle memory and instinct reacted before my brain did, answering and pressing the phone hard against my ears, not having the first clue on what I should say to her.

.....

Not that it mattered one bit anyway, because, for all my worries on what to say, Irene spoke first instead.

“You just interrupted me from a conference with the police commissioner and various other officers.”

If I was at a loss for words before... I don’t even know what I was right then.

“Oh...bad time...” I croaked weakly. “I’ll, uh... I’ll just call you back when you’re done, then.”

“No, don’t hang up on me,” She sternly ordered. “You’re more important. Tell me what happened.”

“I assumed you’d know as much as I do,” I replied. “Hasn’t Sammy told you?”

“She told me you did something stupid, and then that you did something even stupider, and that you also nearly died – twice. Not exactly a detailed account,” From her tone and inflection, even a deaf person could hear the brazen disapproval in her voice. “And while we’re at it, you being put out of commission wasn’t the icebreaker I had in mind to finally be on speaking terms with your sister. No offense, but you’re not really a good conversation piece.”

“Well, on the bright side,” I said, pausing briefly to scour for any sign of a silver lining. “At least you’re both well-acquainted now.”

“She called me ‘Miss’, Mister,” Irene said, exasperated. “How’s that for being well-acquainted?”

Alright, I got no silver linings there.

“Discussion for another time,” She breathed out, defeated. “Now start from the beginning, leave nothing out – tell me everything that happened.”

“You sure?” I asked, hearing some faint murmurings in the background. “What about your conference? Sounds important, shouldn’t you be tending to that first?”

“Yes, I really should,” her sentence lingered there for a moment, “But I’m not going to,” then very faintly, I heard the slam of a door instantly silence a unison of urging voices. “And besides, you’re a lot more pleasant to listen to. So please – don’t stop talking now.”

It took quite a while to straighten out the entire narrative. Lots of backpedaling, and reclarifying, trying to give her the complete picture, and as I explained, I was simultaneously reliving. Every twist, every revelation, the smallest, the biggest.

“Eight Divine?” Irene whispered, her silent disbelief that followed ringing so deafening. “Frederika, Yuila, Wilfrey, Velania, Vestra, Allan, Riastra...”

“Yeah, Terestra,” I finished for her, “Didn’t see that coming, did you?”

“It explains her extraordinary abilities at the very least, but...” Irene clicked her tongue. “There’s seven, there’s only seven, always seven. It doesn’t make sense for there to be an existence of an eighth. It doesn’t sound right.”

Why doesn’t it sound right? Why couldn’t it? This unknown world, with its own unknown set of rules... what’s stopping an eighth entity of divinity? I wanted to inquire, I wanted to know more, but if I start asking, I know I’ll never stop asking, so for now, just for now, I held my questions back and instead spoke.

“That’s what Ja... Grieven said too.”

“Yes this Grieven, a Chronicler now turned Magus,” Irene blew out a weary breath, this flood of information already suffocating her. “It explains how he was able to give Todd every single minute detail about Kronocia. What they learn, what they remember... they do not forget. It also explains his proficiency in magic – a mind like his.”

There was another long bout of silence on the other end, and I knew on the otherside there she was deeply immersed in thought, working her mind, sorting out the pieces to the puzzle.

“He made Todd remake Kronocia in the form of Asteria,” She muttered absentmindedly. “For what? to cope? to deal with his loss? his grief? relive his former home? If it was just that, then why the Blightfall? Why split a fragment of himself? Why all this spontaneity?”

I could still recall clearly bits and pieces, every sensation, every emotion Grieven felt. When I allowed that piece of him in me, in a way, he became a piece of me too. But I could only see, only feel, like splintered fragments from what I saw of his memories back then.

In short, try as might to recall, I still didn’t know a single essence of his plan at all.

“How about things on your end?” I asked. “Anything out of the ordinary?”

“No,” Irene answered. “But I feel his only biding his time. He split his soul, so his weak, enfeebled. In hiding. Explains why his presence is nowhere to be felt, and why Amelia is still having trouble. Still, whatever his plan is... I’m not sure what fragmenting a piece of himself would do to benefit it. Especially with the risk involved. Unless, well, it isn’t a benefit at all.”

Isn’t a benefit...

“You mean a distraction,” I said. “He nearly cloned himself – as a distraction?”

“It’s a theory,” She said. “Another theory is that it could just be a way to test something.”

“Test... test something like what?”

“I don’t know, but think about – when he summoned the Blightfall, he didn’t have an end goal for it, he just did it... and he certainly wasn’t too upset that you stopped it. Making Asteria, again he did nothing with it. Now, this incident with Harry – once again, where is he for this? The effort, the pain he endured implanting a piece of himself into him... and yet he’s nowhere to be seen to try and stop you from reversing his accomplishment? He’s either that whimsical with his ploys, or we haven’t been foiling his plans all along.”

Hearing her, I was surprised to realize it actually all made sense. Indeed, where was he in all this? Every attempt he made, we thwarted, and he barely did a thing to stop it. If nothing he did so far really mattered to him, it then begs the question... when the next big incident inevitably rolls around, when we’re thrown back once more into the fray, averting catastrophes that he’s sprung – will it finally matter to him then?

“At any rate,” Irene sighed. “We won’t know for certain until he finally decides to show himself again. The least we can do is be ready for when that happens. Whatever it is that may happen.”

I nodded to her words. “Agreed.”

“Anyway, you compromised your soul, you’re weak,” She said, reverting back to her commanding tune. “You should be resting, eating, not talking,”

“Oh? I thought you wanted to listen to me speak?”

“And I have, and now I’m satisfied,” She responded matter-of-factly. “They’ll be time to talk when you get back. You will be coming back soon right?” She cleared her throat. “Right?”

I smiled. “Of course.”

“Then, okay, great,” She coughed. “I’ll... see you then.”

But before I go and lower my phone there’s just one thing I wanted to say.

“Y’know, not that you should be, and not that I want you to be,” I slowly began. “But I’m surprised that you aren’t angrier with me for what I did.”

Through the crackling static, I heard her scoff, amused. “Angrier – for what? For you being you?”

“Well...” I shrugged feebly. “Yeah...”

That’s when I heard something better, her soft soothing laughter. “Maybe. I don’t know, I thought I’d be too. I wanted to be angrier at you. But then I...”

I urged her on. “And then you...?”

“Then I heard your voice,” She continued on. “Husky, gravelly, too nervous to speak first... hearing you, suddenly, I wasn’t so angry anymore.”

“Didn’t know my voice had that kind of effect on you.”

“Oh, don’t get ahead of yourself, trust me, you don’t,” She assured me, speaking one last time before promptly hanging up. “I just really miss you that much, is all.”