My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

Chapter 597: An Elf’s Tale, Part

Eshwlyn barely slept.

For most of the first night, save for the rare fleeting moments when she’d permit herself to rest, she sat silent in a readied stance – watching over Lenora as she gradually expanded and stretched, occupying most of their bedding space.

Her pointed ears stayed perked and listening – hearing the faint breathing of slumber, the little noises of the living, stirring night outside, occasionally disruptive, assailed, aggravatingly too... by that ugly ‘snore’ resounding deeper within the burrow.

Human sounds were like thorns constantly pricking the inner parts of her ears, and due to that very agony, there was no chance of her ever mistaking them for anything else.

So she continued to listen – scouring the many noises for anything rustling, for any sway of the forest greens amiss, for any more distinct human noise. Humans rarely travel alone, their strength relied on numbers... this woman wasn’t alone, there had to be more.

There were always more.

But as the glimmer of the sun began to light and paint the dark canvas of the twinkling sky, the woman’s constant snores would turn out to be the only noise to pester her being.

.....

The early morning throughout the second day was entirely enshrouded with the thick, striking aroma of burnt meat and wood – much to Eshwlyn’s dismay, pinching her nose, and reinvigorating her draining patience.

Lenora struggled with her ‘cooking’, exasperatedly rifling through her many books for guidance as yesterday’s attempt ended up being a colossal failure... with the woman throwing up most of the meal she was fed, dribbling down in thick, chunky sludges across her chin and neck.

Once more, Eshwlyn just watched... with every failed attempt, a lesson learned, with every improvement, a widening smile. By midday, the smog polluting the blue skies had dissipated, replaced by this rich savory swirl bubbling and simmering.

“Meat porridge” the humans referred to it, Lenora keenly explained, pouring a portion into a newly-carved wooden bowl, extending it out towards Eshwlyn’s reluctant hands, her smile showing in a silent plea, “Kes’te, Eshwlyn.”

Taste it, she asks – a meal fashioned out of human customs, a nauseating notion... only except... this wasn’t made by human hands... and if thinking that... it became a more tolerable notion.

Eshwlyn took the bowl from her sister, lifting it, smelling it – allowing its warm, tangy fragrance to smother her nose, and clumsily gripping a spoonful of the thick white gunk, lifted it into her gaping lips and apprehensively swallowed.

Lenora continued to stare, waiting, anticipating. “Doh?”

But she couldn’t say, Eshwlyn couldn’t speak at all – her words falling back down her throat as she devoured another helping, and then another, more... the spoon falling to the dirt as she titled the bowl into her gaping, wanting mouth... downing the contents in one swift gluttonous motion.

“Ah, that’s a relief...” spoke Lenora in a breathy exhilarated sigh. “Doh masim je, Eshwlyn... nor?”

Eshwlyn smacked her lips, holding out the now-empty bowl towards her, nodding eagerly, “Nor!”

By the third day, the woman’s thin, bony fingers could twitch again, and her eyelids began to blink in more frequent intervals... but with this return of some movement, came with it, in the cold of the night, another annoying noise for another sleepless night – the rapid chatter of human teeth.

The crackle of flames was usually a grave omen for an Elf. A fire meant another home burnt to cinders, another tribe conquered by the humans, declared always by the smell of burning flesh in the air. It’s why she can never ever stand the smell.

Yet those humans, those savage creatures, casually utilizing such a merciless element to kill, to aid them with their meals... and now... to help drift them peacefully deep into sleep.

Lenora helped sparked another flame anew, towing the human woman’s stiff body closer to the entrance of the burrow, where it smoldered and blazed until the early morning rain of the fourth day doused its comforting warmth.

It was then, still taking shelter within the den from the ever-raging storm, that the human finally regained her name.

“Ter...ra...” a voice faintly sounding amidst the pouring rain, the howling wind, reaching both Elves’ perked, stiffening ears. “Ter...ra...”

And thus began the emergence of a brand new schedule wherein Lenora, whenever possible, would clamber deep into the deepest end of the burrow just to converse with this human called Terra.

The first time, half-curious, half-suspicious, Eshwlyn tagged along, carefully maintaining her distance, keeping a readied hand at all time inches from the hilt of her sheathed blade.

As expected, she could not even in the slightest decipher any of the sounds they exchanged with one another. The only words she understood were the same words the woman constantly repeated, the first words she’s ever uttered.

“Thank you,” over and over again. “Thank you for bathing me,” then. “Thank you for feeding me,” and “Thank you for warming me,” once more.

A Human thanking an Elf.

It was a laughable notion, more than that, it was an impossible notion, and yet in spite of it, there it was, resounding more prominent than the crackle of thunder above, through pouring tears, through straining slurs... another infuriating human sound.

“Thank you,” the human said. “Thank you for saving me.”

The fifth day was a day of learning, a day of discovering, and for Eshwlyn, a day of precariousness, seeing more motion, witnessing more life resurging the woman’s pale skin.

Tera turned out to be an aspiring apprentice to a renowned Magus, hailing from the prosperous kingdom of Astra far beyond the western shores of Frieden Rike. Terms, titles, and lands that the both of them knew very little about.

“What were you doing here?” Lenora asked, and sensing the tone of the question, Eshwlyn too scooted slightly closer.

With great difficulty still, Tera tried to speak, sitting upright, and rigidly lowering her wooden spoon back into the bowl. “I came to this country... to search for something...”

From Lenora’s expression, Eshwlyn knew whatever answer the human gave did not come close to satisfying in the slightest.

“Searching for what?” Lenora asked again, that kindly shimmer stirring in her gaze again. “Maybe we might be able to help you look for it.”

“No, no...” the human struggled to move her head. “You’ve helped enough... you and your sister... I never thought Elves... would one day be the ones to save my life...”

“We’re a bit different from other Elves...” the little elf smiled, glancing briefly at her sister. “And so, um... we’re hoping that you’ll also treat us a bit different from other humans in return...”

It was then for the first time that the woman formed a smile. Eshwlyn never knew humans were even capable of such a feat.

“Do not... worry...” Terra assured. “I always repay... the kind of treatment I am given.”

A bit dreary from her own lack of understanding, Eshwlyn tuned out their discussion, shifted slightly left, to peer out towards the open field from inside the burrow, and for quite some time, she was left to her own thoughts, undisturbed... wondering of this progressive recovery, this overabundance of unfamiliar sounds, Eshwlyn knew it was only going to worsen in the coming days ahead...

And indeed, once more, the human made another pestering noise.

“By the way, that sword...” Tera remarked. “I thought Elves didn’t need to use any weapons.”

Lenora softly tapped her sister’s shoulder, and Eshwlyn turned around again, noticing the blue in the woman’s eyes remaining steady at the scabbard hanging around her waist.

“Where did you find that?” Terra asked, aided and conveyed through Lenora’s voice. “Vemer’pon ka selvidur, Eshwlyn?”

It was the first time the woman ever addressed her plainly, ever made eye contact directly, and with narrowed, disgruntled lips, Eshwlyn relayed her answer.

“Vent A.”

Lenora blinked. “She took it.”

“Took it...” Terra repeated. “From... a human, I assume?”

“Nes’na vent... ka?”

The bigger Elf nodded once, affirming, “Nes’na vent.”

Suddenly the air between the empty spaces flowed and felt uneasy. The human appeared a bit unsettled, and Lenora had grown quite silent over time, but once more, in the usual human fashion, the woman continued to sound her noises.

“Can you ask your sister if she – ?”

“I... k-killed... human...” Eshwlyn interjected, stating the answer outright. “I keep knife... I take...”

Another long bout of silence as their gazes remained locked on one another, then without the need of translating, a piercing gaze trascending barriers, Terra plainly asked her, “Why did you take it?”

Lenora looked almost too reluctant to press her sister further, but after a moment of indecision, she faintly asked, “Veler’pon vent ka smet... Eshwlyn?”

Why? The Human asked. Why did the Elf take? The Human that was always stealing, always taking – lives, home, land. She dare asked her? She dare admonish her?

A Human asking an Elf why they take?

It was the worst noise.

The most repugnant notion.

“I take... b-because...” Eshwlyn began as she spurred to leave the vicinity before her growing impulse began to take over. “All you... humans... deserve it...”