My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World



Fundamentals must have taken a full hour … and at least almost double before I even began getting a solid grasp on it. 

Erecting a magical barrier specifically designed to thwart and keep out Death itself wasn't the one-hand-tied-behind-my-back trivial effort as it probably sounded like. 

Definitely also not how I thought I'd be spending the few remaining hours left before the year draws to a close. 

Thankfully, convenience was on my side here - having unraveled the intricacies of impenetrable barriers only quite recently gave me all the experience I needed to go ahead and forge my own. 

If not for Mom, and the whole song and dance she had put me through, then I genuinely don't think any of this would have been possible in the timeframe I was given.

So… thanks Mom. 

I think. 

That being said though, I still had my work cut out for me. Being able to conjure a one-time body shield during a heated game of paintball wasn't exactly the same thing as making one that could encompass the entire premise and then some. 

Then there's that other thing to consider too. A particular element to the whole process that was the crux of it all in order to actually pull this off. 

"You need a catalyst," Irene said,  bringing with her the metaphorical blackboard and chalk. "Something you can tether the barrier to so that it may operate independently from you." 

Wasn't the first time I was hearing those words. Assaulted by enemy fire, and hunkering down under cover - let's just say you tend to remember a lot more things under the duress of a battlefield.

"When you made yours back during our paintball game, you left out that process - as a result, the integrity of your barrier relied solely upon you and your capabilities to provide a steady flow. So, you sneeze, you cough a little too hard, you get distracted - the barrier crumbles. Which it did, if you can remember that." 

Once again, how could I forget?

"You'd be hard-pressed to find a suitable catalyst," she lectured on, making broader imprints on her living-room carpet with her continuous back-and-forth pace. "Impurities are common. There are always flaws should your chosen catalyst prove insufficient. And in this world especially…you have even less options, unfortunately." 

I shifted around, sinking deeper into her couch - feeling more daunted with every metaphorical flip of the textbook. I remembered back  when I first made the request to be taught by her, how eager and keen I was, smiling and shrugging at every caveat she threw at me… where did all that bravado go, I wonder?

"A catalyst is like… well…" Irene paused for a moment, struggling to summarize months of learning into a single sentence. "A closed circuit of sorts. Magic that is able to govern itself upon a single purpose to uphold. In this particular instance… we need one in order to ensure your barrier is able to hold the influence of Death for quite some time." 

"Tell me you already got one for me ready," I asked, fingers crossed. "Something like this sounds like something you'd prep for beforehand." 

She gave a look - and all I could see was ambiguity. 

"Ironically enough, something dead, or something close to death, is usually what is most commonly used…" 

Okay, now I get that look. 

"Your mother - rodents, was it? birds? A little impractical, that, but she made it work. As for the Kingdom of Astra, perhaps the most famous example… the Church had volunteered seven powerful, devoted bishops to serve as sacrifices to empower the barrier surrounding the nation. See, exempting specialized artifacts, channeling your magic, your intentions through an organic husk is the most effective way to both form and maintain a barrier." 

"Irene," I spoke up, alarmed. "I know you're not suggesting it, but…"

"And I'm not," she spoke over me. "I'm not thinking of having you use anything dead." 

"Well, thank God." 

"I'm thinking of having you use me instead." 

I didn't say a word. I didn't have to. Not that I could even if I really, truly wanted to. 

Didn't know what kind of face I was making either, but clearly it was nothing too good seeing as how Irene came hastily marching my way and plopping down right next to me, a comforting hand resting atop my thigh with just a touch of enticing shock.

"I won't be in any danger if that's what you're thinking," she said immediately. "It won't hurt me, you won't harm me. In fact, I'd barely even feel a thing. The only reason it would be inadvisable to utilize a living being is due to its unpredictability. Unlike the dead, it's a lot harder to channel and permeate your magic and intentions through a living, breathing person."

"How come?" I asked.

"Same reason you can't shove more things in an overflowing fridge," she answered simply. "Things get cluttered, things get mushed. My magic might interfere with yours. It's highly unreliable. Near death, however, things can be more manageable. Though I don't expect you to be quite keen on that prospect either, right?" 

I knew she was joking, the faint smile on her face couldn't have made that fact more obvious… despite that, that didn't stop me from just outright feeling queasy. 

"So I… I - what?" I asked slowly. When I start to form the barrier, must I form it… directly through you?"

"Arms extended, mind empty," Irene nodded her head. "Focus, Determination, Intent. It's just like everything else." 

"A barrier for Death, Irene," I said. "A barrier I'm supposed to channel through you somehow too. Can you really consider that being just like everything else?" 

"You'll fail, you'll mess up, of course. But that's just you getting started is all," Irene said, speaking without the slightest waver of confidence in her voice. "But eventually, you'll get the hang of it. Eventually, I know you'll succeed. Just like with everything else you had set your mind to. I've seen it happen enough times to not expect anything less from you." 

Then, leaning a little forward, a little closer, she peered up at me. 

"And waking Ria," she said softly. "You do want to do this, don't you?" 

A question like that - usually, I'd hesitate. Yet for some reason, at this moment…

"I do."

I don't.

"Then there you go," Irene said, beaming admirably. "It's just only a matter of time now." 

I felt another light jolt, and wriggling gently, Irene entwined her fingers tightly between mine - and there I felt a silent whirr, an invisible wind… a tender warmth.

"Well then," she said in an escaping breath. "Ready to get started?"