My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

We were nearing home now, I could see it, feel it even. I could close my eyes and I'd still know that from here we turn left, then ahead on the oncoming junction we take a hard right, and from there it was just a straight drive home.

Landmarks whizzed by us, each one acting as its own personal indicator of how long more before we reached. 

That stray picket fence lodged in the dirt to the side, still broken by the looks of it, and the weeds surrounding it had only grown more in abundance since my absence. I felt the truck veer slightly, and that's when I knew we passed that pothole in the middle of the road… yep, there it still was, as deep and large as I remembered… been there for years, folk always said it'd get filled someday, supposed today still wasn't that day, it seems.

After the pothole, I remembered there was still a left turn before we were finally there, sure enough, the truck swerved as per my recollections, and as soon as that happened, I stopped remembering. I didn't need to rely on memory for any longer to know where was where because we were here already… exactly as I remembered. 

The view ahead of us was the same as it always has been. Our roof, desperately in need of a paint job, still missing a few tiles, and perhaps even a little more since I last saw. The window to my room upstairs still had its blinds shut exactly as I left it. And that beacon of light, a lantern hanging by the porch, its distinct flickering glow still very much visible even from afar. 

We always had one lit outside whenever someone was away, didn't matter what for… and then once that person finally found their way home, only then was the lantern removed. It was a family tradition of sorts, I always thought it was a bit weird, but seeing it now, and feeling a warmth from its glow dispersing inside me, I think I kinda get it now. Less of a 'you're not home', and more of a 'welcome home'.

I wonder how long that's been hanging there…

"Your home…" Ash muttered, eyes filling with wonder as we drew ever closer. "At long last."

"A lot smaller than the one back home though," I replied. "Not as fancy either, but - "

"It befits you, Master," She said. "More than I could ever imagine."

Gradually, the truck slowed down to a crawl, and as the wind died down, the rattle of the old engine grew more prominent. It rumbled, it stalled, then it died, and all was quiet. Tire tracks in front of the house were something Mom was never fond of seeing, and so as always, Dad parked a little bit back. Which means, from here, we're walking.

"This is our stop," I proclaimed, shuffling forward to the edge of the truck. "Help me get Harry out." 

Dad was the first out, I saw him briefly look back at us... his eyes slowly sifting over from person to person, from Harry clumsily landing to his feet, to Adalia the next to disembark, and stuck the longest to Ash, before eventually, turning to me, who was, all along, watching him watching them.

"There's only one spare mattress," He said to me. "You'll make do?" 

"Yeah," I said, nodding, pretending I didn't just see how fast he dropped his stare there. "I'll figure it out."

He nodded back in response. "Good," he spoke, then promptly began walking away, with Sammy quickly giving chase right behind him, and as we followed in their pace, I could sense that some of us here weren't exactly wholly looking forward to what awaited us ahead.

It was hard not to notice how close Adalia was starting to get beside me, even harder to ignore the way she seemed to tense up the closer we got. 

"Nervous?" I asked.

She blinked at that, taking longer to answer the question when usually asked. "I... think... so..."

Adalia wasn't the only one either. Sammy kept darting quick glances at me, and Ash could be heard steeling herself in-between breaths of air. Hell, even I was feeling heavy in my legs, every step felt like waddling through thick goop. In fact, the only one of us that seemed to be entirely unaffected, was also the only one of us that was incapable of feeling a single thing anyway. 

"One last time, I know you said not to speak, but…" Harry shifted his ever-smiling face over towards me. "Keep me away from her. Please?" 

I didn't bother replying. We were walking, we were here. That was already answered enough. 

More and more, memories came streaming by me. The rows of trees looming on either side of us, the rustle of stray leaves in our every step. I walked this path home a million times, marched towards that house a billion times more. The soil beneath my feet, the smell of dirt lingering in the air. All familiar sensations. 

Then, before we even reached, I heard a creak, that squeak, a gazillion times over, now a gazillion and one. I guess Dad still never got around to oiling those rusty hinges, after all…

I turned my eyes forward, knowing already what to expect - and as expected, a moment later, that squeak got even louder, and the front door swung wide open, and slowly emerging from within, she appeared.

"Oh my," She said, her voice dripping extensively with amusement. "That's a lot of mouths to feed." 

Even more than home, even more than Dad even, Mom was the one thing that truly stayed unchanged. So much time has gone by, so many things have happened since… and yet, nothing about her felt like any of those things has ever happened. 

Everything, from her braided ponytail, down to her simple and modest attire. It was like she was a stagnant piece in the passage of time. She still smiled the same way she always does, still stared the same she always does. With love and affection in her every action.

Dad reached her first, ambling up the creaky steps to the doorstep, stopping directly beside her. 

"Chickens got loose again," I heard him say to her. "Saw them running around on the way back. I'll change, then I'll go round them up." 

"Oh, dear," Mom frowned. "You'll be back in time for dinner though, won't you? It's a special occasion." 

"We'll see."

"You better be," She said, having to rise on tiptoe to give him a peck on the cheek. "Go get a headstart."

Dad silently shuffled into the house, but not before he gave another glance back at us. It was quick, subtle… but I saw it… he gave me a look, but for the life of me, I didn't know why. 

Reaching second, Sammy hurriedly marched up the steps, keeping her gaze only strictly forward and nowhere else. Mom watched her, eyes trailing her every move, and called her name once, "Sammy…" but that only quickened her pace, and in an instant, she disappeared inwards without a word. 

Mom has never been subtle with her expressions. It was always easy to tell what exactly she was feeling with a single glance. 

When Sammy ignored her, I saw the hurt in her eyes. Then, upon noticing Adalia slowly approaching, I saw the joy on her face rousing in an instant.

"Oh, my dear Adalia," One at a time, she clambered down the steps, her smile growing more prominent with every step forward. "I'm so happy to see you again."

Although they were both somewhat the same height, for some reason, Mom just seemed to completely eclipse her.

"Terestra…" Adalia whispered, frozen stiff to the spot. "You're here… you are… really here..."

Mom's gaze softened, and she gently began to stroke her hair… like it was second nature to her, to them… like she's done it countless times. She probably has.

"We'll have plenty of time to catch up now that you're here, but for now," She peeked over Adalia's shoulder, her black eyes finding their way over, and mirroring mine.. "I want to welcome my son back home."