My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

Chapter 537: Recuperating

I sounded like a dead body being painstakingly dragged down the stairs. Every dull thump, every soft creak, the squeak of the handrails as I slid my hand across the ever-slanting slope downwards – an ever too familiar scene that time and time again had run its course.

By then, I’m afraid I’d gotten so used to walking like a cripple that the entire ordeal was more boring to me than it was the agony it used to be many, many times prior.

“Five... minutes...” Adalia slowly stated, her distant gaze then staring so uncomfortably close. “Then you... will rest... again...”

“That so...” I clambered down the final rickey step, throwing at her a raised brow. “Says who?”

She blinked once. “Me...”

How bold. Usually, she wasn’t the type to take initiative. So this was quite a rare occasion we have in our hands here.

“That so,” My brow rose even higher. “And so what happens if I choose to be a little lax on the curfew there?”

.....

Immediately right after, I found that I couldn’t move a single inch further. I pulled, I heaved, and every limb moved accordingly except for my right arm... held back so effortlessly by a gentle yet firm grip, and that’s when I understood that what she said wasn’t just a statement, but an order too, and that I better follow it to the letter.

Or else...

“Five... minutes...” She repeated again, laxing her grip before finally letting her hold go free. “I will be... waiting... right here...”

I nodded, total compliance. “You do that.”

“I will be counting too...” She said again, plopping herself onto the foot of the stairs, staring stiffly, just as I took a single forward step. “Every second... right here...”

Again, I just nodded. “You do that...”

Was I being threatened? Or was it just the silence turning her words into nightmare fuel? Whatever, time’s ticking – better get going.

Using the walls as crutches, I shuffled myself around. Every inch closer to the living room was a surge of trepidation in my guts. But midway through, I came to a dead stop.

Forward – a glimmer of moonlight stopping short before my bare feet, shining through a slight crevice of the opened front door. Harry wasn’t in the living room.

Well, Sammy did say he liked hanging by the porch...

I mustered enough strength to cross the extra few meters, placing a shaky hand on the handle, and feeling the cool refreshing draft of nightfall seeping through the narrow gap.

That draft then turned into a breeze as I swung the doorway wider, stepping over. It hit me right away, the dim blue luminance of night, after so long recuperating, suddenly such a mesmerizing sight.

But when I tried to take it all in, let the embrace of nature course through my body – instead, I got a hard metaphorical slap to the face, particularly to my nose. Something smelled bad, foul... familiar.

I coughed.

“Mmm!”

Something quickly whirled around from the porch steps to look at me. Wide, alarmed eyes, with a smoldering, smoking cigarette underneath tucked right between crinkly lips.

I coughed again.

“Oh, oh, excuse me, sorry,” bony fingers hastily pulled and snuffed the burning stick after one last good puff, a final wispy white cloud dispersing with every word. “No smoking indoors. Your mother is very strict on that policy.”

Then after all that, I saw a smile begin to form, on a face that for so long has brought me nothing but distress.

“I figured the porch was my only loophole around that rule.”

Harry looked... normal.

For a brief few moments, I just stood there stricken, utterly taken aback by it.

How a simple change in demeanor and a kindlier, softer expression could emerge and show a completely different person from that man so distorted and malformed from the clutches of rage and anger.

There was not a sliver of that person anymore here, not even a trace. Clean-shaven, well-groomed, he looked at least a good decade younger since I last saw him as that gaunt, frail old man, with quivering knees buckling under his own weight.

In that one instance – I thought of Nick, and now my mind can never unsee the uncanny resemblance.

Like many other countless times, I was at a loss for words, and so time and time again, I went and spoke the first thing that came to mind.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” I asked, hearing only too late how hypocritical I sounded saying it.

And apparently, he could readily tell a black pot when he sees one, especially when said pot was hunching and heaving before him now. To that, Harry threw another small, kindly smile. “Shouldn’t you?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, instead, he just scooted slightly to the side, and with a nod, invited me to the now open space just over beside me.

Welp, what was I gonna do – say no? I took him up on the offer, and slowly settled myself down. The stars, the trees, the whole wide world as the backdrop before us.

“So what brings you out here?” He asked, then promptly began to guess. “Last I heard, you just woke up this afternoon. Did you come to see how I was doing?”

“Pretty much.”

“Ahh, beat me to it,” He shook his head. “I’d like to see you first actually... but these legs aren’t fit for inclines yet anytime soon, sadly. Well, in any case, take a good long look, then,” He said from the corner of his eyes. “How do you think I’m doing?”

“Healthy enough to speak in rhetoric from what I’m hearing,” I said. “In my experience, you’re pretty much all better.”

He snorted. “I think so too,” then heaved a long, relishing breath. “And from what I’ve been told from your folks, and everybody else around, it’s only all thanks to you that I am.”

Okay, here we go...

“It was a group effort kind of thing,” I said. “In the grand scheme of things, my part to play was pretty small in it.”

“Yeah, your mother said you’d say that,” Harry muttered in an amused whisper. “She says you’re just modest like that apparently.”

Ooo, that woman... always ten steps ahead of me at every turn. It’s like she’s God or something. Oh, wait a minute.

“Modest wouldn’t be the word I use,” I said, sighing, narrowing my lips. “What else did she tell you about me?”

Harry turned to the skies, smiling as he did. “That I shouldn’t believe a single excuse you’d say. And to not believe you when you say not to believe her.”

Did I say ten steps ahead? My mistake, let’s just round that number up to a good million.

“I’d like to give you a nice, big hug, actually,” He nonchalantly said out of the blue, wrinkles forming around the edge of his lips. “And if I do, I don’t think I’ll let go of you until the sun comes up, and even then, I can’t be too sure.”

Nick was still vivid and fresh in my mind – and so all I felt hearing that was the disorienting sense of dissonance.

“But I suppose, knowing you, you wouldn’t appreciate a complete stranger hugging you, would you?” Harry continued on, sniggering a little as he did. “It’s funny, though. Hugs are a no-go. But saving my life... you didn’t even hesitate, did you? Funny how that works, right?”

“It was the right thing to do.”

“And it won’t be right unless I thank you for it too,” He said. “So really, genuinely... thank you for saving me.”

His gratitude was... overpowering. It was like it was radiating off of him. In his eyes, in his tone, every spoken word layered with that distinct cadence of thanks.

I went and smiled back. “Don’t mention it.”

But perhaps, my smile was just a little too wide. I don’t how I looked, but I knew it got him chuckling again.

“Wow...” He said quietly. “That modest? You don’t sound too happy to know that you saved a life. Or that you’re being thanked for it. If you don’t mind, care to tell why that could be? ”

Do parents just gain this innate sense to know when something’s amiss with the younger generation? It’s the only way to explain how he could see through me so effortlessly.

Simply put, I didn’t think I deserved thanks. Not with an ‘almost’ on my record. I ‘almost’ didn’t save a life. I ‘almost’ got you killed for good. Call it whatever – stupid, irrational – but that was the mindset I was in... and it was a mindset I know many wouldn’t get.

Especially not from the person that ‘almost’ wouldn’t be here beside me now.

I shrugged. “It’s complicated.”

“Oh, I bet it is... you risk your life to save mine, but you won’t even accept a simple thank you in return,” He peered at me, for the longest time, just staring, almost baffled... but amused all the same. “Tell me then, son... what is it would you like to hear from me instead?”

I thought about it, really thought about it... what do I want to hear from an ‘almost’ failure? Is there anything to be even said to that?

“Nothing,” I said. “Like I said – don’t mention it.”

He’s got these eyes, this look... Mom’s got ’em too. That warm, understanding look you give to your troubled child. And I see he’s got plenty of experience giving those soft eyes.

“Alright, then, nothing it is,” He proclaimed, probing no more. “We’ll do it like before – we’ll just talk about nothing in particular. Last I heard from you, you’re pretty good at that, right?”

If there’s one thing Nick clearly didn’t inheret from his Dad – it was definitely his warm, comforting attitude.

Really, what a shame.

“Gotta make it quick, then,” I muttered, briefly turning ’round towards the looming darkness beyond the doorway. “I’m on quite a strict deadline, you see...”