My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World



Well, I wanted an answer.

I got my answer. 

Maybe not the answer I was expecting to hear from her, but… an answer regardless.

To all those deaths, all those irredeemable acts committed and then kept secret from her by her father… apparently, they didn't matter. 

Irene didn't care. 

"Okay," Ria said slowly, pausing momentarily to muse over her, and the earnest indifference Irene wore on her calm, collected look. "Guess that's mystery solved then, huh? Can't exactly hate a monster if you don't think a monster is one." 

"Castus is a monster," Irene stated as clearly as her bluntness would let it sound. "I'm not excusing him, I won't stand against facts to try and defend all that he's done. I'm just telling you I don't care about it." 

She said it without the slightest hint of hesitation, no doubts, not a second's pause as to what she was admitting to that I had no choice but to believe her. Which is a bummer for me, because as opposed to finally finding some resolution, I'm left instead with another question entirely…

If she really didn't mind about having been raised and loved by a person she'd have despised and abhorred if they were anybody else… if she truly didn't care about them… 

Then do I?

"And why not?" Ria asked, asking what's been echoing inside my head on blaring repeat.

"What exactly is it that you want me to do here, Ria?" Irene snapped, weary already of all the questions she clearly believed a complete waste of breath. "They're gone, they're dead. What's it matter to any of them now if I despise their murderer or not? If it's a matter of principle - then just don't. I grew up with the man I knew, not the man he was. I know, and I know you know he's done what he could to make up for his deeds, even if he's failed, even if he doesn't deserve to be redeemed."

Ria let out a tiny little snort, which further incensed Irene, raising her voice. 

"And if we're really gonna start judging people's integrity now based on kill count alone, if we're all gonna start acting like we're pure," she said. "Then you're not looking pretty redeemable yourself here, Ria." 

And at that, the phoenix could only give a smirk, silently conceding with a nod that left her head hanging in a downcast.

"Touché."

Irene went and gulped the rest of her can of beer completely, chugging it down like the elixir of life.

"Satisfied?" She asked, exhaling so heavily, a piece of her soul might have seeped through. "Are we done talking about my deceased, hypocrite father now?"

Ria just batted her eyes, darting them around freely in the direction of more mischief. 

"Lemme just see if I'm getting you. Alright, so by your own belief - you don't mind if someone's a bastard in the past, so long as they're a saint in the present? A guy could commit the most heinous things, but it's fine with you so long as it happens long ago and they cry about it somewhere down the line?" 

A faint crackle popped, and Irene's can gradually started forming dents around her fingers.

"You know that's not what I meant."

"What if someone you love is evil now? Can they still be excused? I mean past, present - people are still dead, right? Does it really matter if it happened five seconds ago or five years ago? I mean I'm sure eventually they'll see the errors of their ways. They still deserve love, don't they?" 

"What are you even trying to say?"

"And what about him, huh?" Ria jerked her head toward me. "What if he starts being an asshole in the future? You know, one day just gets up in the morning, mommy's grand old ambitions start getting into his head, and - "

"Ria," Irene said loudly, deafening the instant snap as she crushed her can completely in her grip. "I'll ask again - just what are you trying to say here?" 

Ria mused over the detective's intense expression, her gaze soft, admiring… as if finding her outrage nothing more than an endearing little sight to appreciate.

"Just thinking out loud," Ria eventually responded, relenting. "But I'll just say, if I were you, and if I had a dad like yours… I'd have spit on his grave a million times over lying like that." 

Irene just stared in silence, permeating enough pressure to set Ria on fire if she wasn't already.

It was a rather abrupt end to an even more abrupt shift in topic, and the seconds that followed left no one with the desire to say any more than what has already been said. 

Ria focused on her meal, heating up the portions that had been left to grow cold. Irene met my eyes once, blinked, then averted her gaze to the empty space to her right. 

Meanwhile, I was caught in the middle of both, soaking up the words from either side and wondering how they'd reflect my own sentiments.

When it came to the sins of the past, Irene was of the opinion they didn't matter. Ria, on the other hand, wasn't big on forgiving and forgetting.

So where do I fall, exactly?

Do I care? Should I care? Do I forgive? Shouldn't I forgive?

Fuck, was now even the right time to be wondering about this?

Actually…

"Why can't you forgive?" I asked. 

From the corner of my eyes, I saw Irene jerk her head back at me. But for the rest of my sightline, Ria took up the entirety of the view, a dangling fry frozen between her wide open mouth.

"Excuse you?"

"Torem Ignis," I said, and the fry flopped back down on her plate. "Your father. I… I remember him. From your memories. I saw the time you spent with him."

Ria shifted in her seat, wearing an unusual empty expression, amplified a hundredfold by an even emptier voice.

"Right, my memories. Should have expected this." 

I went on, careful not to tread too far out of the line.

"You really cared for him. And from what I can tell, he loved you too - "

"Then you probably weren't paying any close attention."

"And the last time I ever heard you mention him," I said, ignoring her remark. "Let's just say you weren't exactly looking back at your time with him in fondness." 

"Okay?"

"He did something, right? Or rather, you found out something about him, didn't you?" I asked. "So, just what is it? What couldn't you forgive?" 

"Oh no, oh you," she snorted, a small smile manifesting. "You want a sob story, is that it? Get to know me, and what makes me, me? I thought I told you long ago you didn't need to bother. My story doesn't matter." 

"Doesn't mean I wouldn't want to hear it regardless." 

"Tonight's our only night, right?" Irene added on, flinging back a familiar set of words at her. "What's more, it's your night. What better a talk than the very life of the party herself?

"Oh, stop it, dear - you're gonna make me blush here," Ria said, squirming away all abashed and ladylike. "No, but seriously, I don't see the point. At least with Irene, you know how warped her thinking is - the kind of crazy you've been smooching and sexing with." 

"Hey!"

"But me?" Ria flailed her arms at me, empty and questioning. "The hell do you think you're gonna get with me? What - perspective?" 

"You tell me. You're the one choosing to sleep forever over anything else, over me - " I flicked my eyes briefly to Irene. " - over her. If you want to talk hypocritical, despicable - you're the one choosing to leave a daughter behind here."

Ria burst into a single wheezing laugh, her eyes as wide as her mouth, agape in total shock.

"Wow!" She blinked at me in rapid succession. "Ouch!" 

"So maybe, yeah, perhaps some perspective is needed," I said. "Before I go seeing you off in your grave, it'd be nice to understand why I'm even seeing you off in the first place." 

Ria was non-stop with the nods, with the smirks, the incredulity, all throughout just gawking at me like I was the most amusing thing she's stumbled upon in centuries. 

"Shit, I got nothing to say to that," she let out a whistle, "By the Divines, you got me good." 

After what seemed like forever, the nodding slowed to a final stop, and in silence, pondered it for an even longer eternity… her gaze veering across the table, and landing toward Irene's own. And faced against her once more, for some reason or another, her smile almost seemed to flicker. 

"Your boyfriend's seriously got a way with words, you know?" Ria muttered. 

"I know," Irene affirmed, sounding empathetic. "He usually always does." 

Then finally, with a breathy, heavy groan, the eternity drew to a begrudging close. 

"Fine. Let's talk about my shit life now, shall we?"