My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

Since when did it start precisely that my life was destined to be a long confusing ride of smoke and mirrors? Was there a specific moment, an initial incident to narrow it down to, or has it always been like this all along?

A clear, concise answer seemingly feels just so hard to get these days, I've been noticing… like, Adalia comes to mind almost immediately. I lost count of how many a time I've hounded her for an answer as to why her sister was hounding me, and as always… I'd get a silence and a door in the face as my answer for the time being.

Speaking of Amelia, after that purely, absolutely, coincidental bump-in with that smarmy-looking, four-eyed Magus, I went on a warpath at home searching high and low for any sign of her knowing just as pure and absolute that she knew something about it, but if you're sensing the pattern here, you'd pretty much know that, of course, Amelia was nowhere to be seen when she actually most needed. 

Gone… at least for the rest of the day, as Adalia quietly explained.

Sera and her mysterious new deal was also another one, I'm still left wondering about that/ Also can't forget little sister Sammy either, and her half-truth for her reason for visiting me. 

Seriously, I like to think of myself as especially lenient and patient when confronted with bullshit such as this, but still, a man can only take so much before the bullshit starts smelling a little too putrid even for him. Like, God, who do I have to talk to around here before someone actually tells me what I needed to know for once? 

Or no, is it me that's the problem? Am I not asking the right questions? Am I doing something wrong? Someone, please tell me if I'm doing something wrong, because I don't know if I'm -!

"You're burning the marshmallow on top." 

I blinked fast twice, took my finger off the trigger even faster, the lighter shut, the fire stopped, as did the burning, hopefully in time too - shit, I lost my focus there. 

"No chocolate sprinkles on the whipped cream, you forgot that too."

Once again, I did a whole round of eyelids blinking just assessing my work on the countertop, as well as every missed mistake I made in the process. 

The order on the receipt requested a chocolate parfait, and I thought to myself easy enough… except it wasn't really easy really. I was off to a promising start at first, I used the correct glass, got the chocolate, got the nuts… once again, I have to wonder where did I exactly go wrong?

"Wafer," grunted Nick the Vulture looming over my shoulder, stuffing in the biscuit wafer the order himself, effortlessly burrowing through the chocolate pudding and crushed nuts with those giant burly fingers of his with one single thrust and all the while throwing me a reprimanding stare. "And you're late with it too, get yourself out of your head or I'll do it for you- customer's waiting."

I nodded, mumbled a quiet, "Yeah, my bad," then briefly watched him make his way back across the other end of the cafe where he proceeded to continue wiping up bits and crumbs from tables and countertops, while also flicking the off-switches on various machinery, slowly whirring them down to a stop.

Outside the shop window, the sky was tinged to a dimming, darkening orange, and I took that as my cue to hurry things up. I quickly amended my mistakes, got a new marshmallow from the bag, sprinkled some sprinkles, and gave the lighter a click. 

Did my utmost to not get distracted, but I just couldn't help myself still - why? Because there's still another person that was keeping things from me, and more than any other, it was her that left me mystified the most. 

Irene wasn't returning my calls, wasn't reading my text. That's normal, she does it a lot… she'll always read them eventually, but I just wished she'd read them now, call me now… because if she was really keeping things from me, I'd like to know why. 

She trusts me, I know she does… so I'm not going to jump into assumptions, make up my own conclusions to answer why she did as she did. But from the way she was acting as of late, it was getting harder and harder to keep myself from doing so.

I flicked off the lighter, stowed on it a shelf, and hastily spun around towards the serving counter, reaching over and gently placing the parfait in front of the sole and final customer of the night. 

"Nature's delight, with extra… nature, I guess," I said, nudging it gently closer. "Please do enjoy." 

"From hands like yours?" She replied, flashing an impish wink and grin at me as she delved into the serving with a teaspoon. "With pleasure."

Normally most of my customers would be content with a simple thank you before going off on their way, but I've come to learn quickly that this one, in particular, was no ordinary customer.

Without her long wooden staff and bulky pointy hat, Hayley the Witch looked like another ordinary mortal walking this ordinary mortal plane… especially with those ordinary clothes of hers.

I think it was the first time I was seeing her dressed in something other than drabby baggy robes… and it seems when she wasn't playing a full-time witch, a top and a long skirt was her go-to getup. 

With a clink, she placed the spoon aside, and crossed her fingers against the hardwood countertop, crooking her head sideways with a coy smile smeared slightly in whipped cream.

"You burnt the marshmallow too much, by the way," she whispered soft enough to not be heard by the giant of a man scrubbing away at a large pan. "You served that to someone cranky, and this would be a 'can I speak to your manager' moment, you know?" 

I hissed in a breath, mentally kicking my ass for a mistake made twice. "Well then, do you want to speak to my manager, miss?" 

"Call me 'miss' again, and I just might," She replied, her eyes feigning sternness. "But I'm feeling generous… so we'll just say I like my marshmallows just like how I like my men." 

Wasn't gonna try and figure out how burnt, caramelized smores correlate with her personal preferences, and honestly, I don't I really want to know either. 

"In return for my silence," Hayley continued, scooping another spoonful of the parfait. "Can I ask you a question?" 

I stared at her expression, too wary of the slight curve in the corner of her lips. "Depends on the question, I suppose."

"Are you really going to Amanda's house for dinner tonight after work?" 

For the third time in the span of minutes, I found myself blinking in rapid succession. "How the hell do you know that?" 

"How do I know?" She scoffed at me, amused. "I'm a witch, oh dear handsome hero of the land. It's in my job description to know things I shouldn't after all."

"Okay, now that we got that wisecrack out of the way," I said, gazing at her dully. "How did you really find out?" 

The answer to that question came in the form of the 21st-century version of the magical crystal ball - her phone display shone a chat log that transpired not even a full hour ago, a conversation between her and Amanda.

I gave it a brief look, an even briefer read, and narrowed my lips. 

Apparently, Amanda was the all-caps shouter type when it came to expressing her excitement. Every single one of her sentences ended with at least an average of four exclamation marks. 

Nervousness, excitement, that was the vibe I got reading her messages… and though it was a little endearing to know how excited she was over this, I can't shake that feeling of guilt standing here sifting through her private chat logs.

"She tweeted about it too," Hayley remarked, peeking her eyes at me over the top of her phone. "Hourly. Pretty much keeping her followers up-to-date on everything so far. But I'm sure you knew that already."

I didn't.

"Is that your question?" I asked.

"One of my questions anyway," She said whimsically. "I still got another one." 

"Which is?"

"Can I tag along?" 

Wait, huh, what? I stared at her, was she joking, was she serious? It was pretty hard to tell when her one expression was always set to its default mischievous state, but then before I could even answer, she broke into a little chuckle, shaking her head, waving a hand, "Kidding," she said through a sip of her drink at her side. 

"Of course you were," I said, sighing wearily. "You're bold, but not that bold."

"Not yet at least," She said with a peculiar glint to her gaze. "Anyway, I just wanted to say you better take good care of her, alright? Amanda's a good person, an even better friend, and ever since you came into the picture, I've never seen her glow this bright before." 

For once, Hayley was speaking sincerely, her froth-covered lips smiling fondly instead of playfully… and since it was such a rare thing indeed to see and hear her like this, I made sure to pay close heed.

"All I'm saying is… the brighter the light, the dimmer the dark gets when it gets extinguished. I know you're a good person at heart, Amanda wouldn't be in love with you if you weren't… but I wouldn't be a good friend if I didn't take some precaution. I don't want to see Amanda get snuffed is all. So I guess, my real question I wanna ask is…  you'll make sure of that, won't you? You'll do your best to make her happy, right?"

Didn't hesitate nodding my head, didn't waste a second answering her right back. "The happiest." 

A clear answer, a concise answer... see? That wasn't so hard now was it? Looking at you, you mystical, mythical lot. 

"Good," She nodded back. "I'll hold you to it. If I see a frown on her face, I'll come find you… you'll answer to me first." 

"Understood." 

"Oh, but it's not me you should be worried about, the most I'll do is call you bad and never talk to you again," Then slowly, almost threateningly, she shifted her eyes to the far left where a lumbering giant was in the midst of seamlessly crushing soda cans flat - with one hand. "It's Nick you gotta answer to second, you know?" 

I nodded again, this time really hearing her loud and clear. "Understood." 

"Okay!" She proclaimed all of a sudden, scooping and eating the rest of the parfait in a second, before standing up and announcing to the world, and to Nick in particular. "Alright Manager, I'll leave the closing up duty to you and the Hero here, treat him nice, alright? There's still that dinner with Mom and I'm already running late - oh yeah, I'll ask again… you sure you don't wanna come?"

Nick paused mid-crush on a can, not even bothering to look up. 

"Is Dad coming?" He asked her.

"Of course he isn't," She replied. "Nick, you know that." 

Hearing her answer, Nick promptly, swiftly, finished crushing the can in his hand. "Then I'm not coming."

"Fine," She spun her heels away from him. "Suit yourself grumpy pants. I'll just tell Mom you said hi or something.." then looked back at me, wiggling playful fingers with a smile. "You have fun with yours too, but not too much fun, alright?"