My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

Discovery was a mostly quiet affair. Finger swiping. Display scrolling. Must have spent like what - a good twenty, thirty minutes?

Wasn't even done reading it all yet.

Mom was just too talented for a single session's worth of research. The most baffling thing about all of this was that this was merely the tip of the magical iceberg.

Implication's right there in the title all the way back on top of the page.

<<List Of Known Magic And Abililties>>

Known. To say there are some abilities of hers left in the murky realm of speculation. It was already a very expansive list solely based on what was verified.

So how long is the list of the unverified? I guess there's only one person that knows the answer to that… should probably get around to asking her about should the day ever come where I'd get the chance to.

Cause as things stand as they were - don't think anyone is capable of leaving the city. Not unless they're eager on getting a court martialing by some shifty men in black. According to the buzzes and beeps of my notification bar - the entire state was now officially on an indefinite lockdown.

So much for packing up and letting the country roads take me home. Plan's as dead as the Earth is round. Blight's a bitch… speaking of which, I've yet to find a way to solve the little issue with the weather.

Subjugation. Found it smack dab right in the middle of two other equally broken abilities of hers. Read it once, twice, thrice… even when I moved on from it, I'd still occasionally find myself scrolling back up to give it its fourth and fifth read.

12:30 in the afternoon indicated the digital clock on the upper right, and here I was giving it my sixth skim-through. At this point, I could very well just close my eyes and recite the passage by heart.

<<Subjugation is a magical spell first devised and used during the period of the Harrowed Scourge where it was used against the dragon Yzmir to bind him to the will of the Great Hero Altir, effectively ending the fearsome dragon's rampage. As the name implies, the spell is able to subjugate a person to the user's will.

Unlike Matriarch thralls or the Fey puppets, a victim of Subjugation would still retain their sense of self, yet would only act in accordance to the user's wishes. Given its complexity, only a handful of magic users had been known to fully realized the spell to its fullest potential.

Most infamous of users being Terestra the Vile, able to not only easily subjugate the species of any race, but to also command great waves to flood the lands, sway the minds of nearly a thousand warriors in an instant, and will the skies to drown the Kingdom of Astra in a seemingly eternal thunderstorm.

It is not yet known exactly how far Terestra's reach extended with the spell, but it is heavily implied that she is in fact, the sole wielder of the spell's true potential.>>

There it was again. Everything that revolves around Terestra's capabilities always came in the form of hearsays and hypotheticals. There was never once a solid grasp of what's she truly able to do.

Abilities and spells en masse and yet sadly, even the most basic ones like levitation were still but an unattainable enigma to my delicate sensibilities.

Tried floating a pen, muttering those same words, "Focus, determination, intent," and the only thing that made it move from the desk was the heavy breath I heaved afterward.

Hate to say it, but I think magic just doesn't come easy to me.

That doesn't mean I'm going to stop doing it though. I owe it to the Vampire slumbering on my bed, owe it to the Elf on my couch, the Phoenix on the other, to keep trying.

Discouragement was a word I rubbed out from my vocabulary. I know I've already given this same spiel many times already, could start placing bets on how long it'll take me to lose my resolve on this one… but this time… this time was different.

Odds were heavily stacked here, nevertheless, I'll still be going all in on me. This time was surely different. I'll make it different.

There was a knock on my door.

"Are you… uh… in there?"

Amanda in a soft whisper. Her shadowy outline shuffling apprehensively through the narrow slit in the doorway. I completely forgot that she stayed over for the night, what an accommodating little host I was.

Don't know why it was her that came knocking. I was expecting Irene if anything, it was her staying up all night here, wasn't she? Had no clue of the situation outside my bedroom ever since I closed that door firmly shut. Did something happen?

Okay, should stop thinking, should start talking.

"I'm here," I replied, hearing the coarseness in my own voice. "You looking for me?"

"Oh, you're awake," The relief in her tone was apparent. "I was about to give your phone a voice call to try and wake you up."

"Why not just open the door?"

The door handle gave a little rattle, then Amanda's voice sounded again. "You locked the door."

Oh. I forgot I even did that. Why did I even do that?

"Irene mentioned that you might be feeling a little under the weather. Oh, uh… excuse the phrasing."

She did, did she?

For the first time in what seemingly felt like ages, I finally detached myself from my little swivel chair, stumbling and shambling my way through tingly bare soles towards the door.

I'm sure if I were to gaze at a mirror right now, I'd see a face that has aged much more than it should have. Was only in my early twenties, yet I felt like a dude breaking through his sixties - hadn't even had my mid-life crisis yet.

Unless this was my mid-life crisis period, in which case… good game, I guess.

The door swung open a moment later after a little fiddle with the handle, and just as I suspected, I did in fact look like the pitiful repercussions of a long, long night of drinking, the look in Amanda's face said it all, the way her brown eyes darted about all around me… guess she was taking in the sight.

Magic. Not even once.

"Um… I'm guessing you're not a morning person, are you?" She said, giving a sheepish smile. "You look terrible."

It was not like she was one to talk either, her bleach blond hair wouldn't look too out of place attached to a flimsy wooden handle, the dark rings 'round her eyes… I've seen a raccoon once, don't think I've ever seen them this big before though.

Of course, I highly doubt she'd appreciate it much if I pointed these things out to her, so you know what, in spite of the fact her tracksuit sported black and white colors, I'll just pretend I wasn't looking at an overgrown baby panda.

"Good afternoon to you too," I said, as dull and flat as the lowest octave. "When'd you wake up?"

"Ah, I think two hours ago. Thanks for letting me sleepover by the way… you have a nice house. Just wish it was under different circumstances, you know?"

Wasn't in the mood for much small talk, so I just nodded along with the sentiment.

"I heard what happened last night from Irene. Couldn't do it, huh? Sorry I wasn't there for it."

"Wasn't anything to be there for anyway," I shook my head once. "It was just rain."

"Yeah, thank God…"

God was actually the last person I felt like giving my thanks to right now. His divineness can go take a hike off a cosmic cliff. You'd think he'd be a bit more concerned about the red stuff sprinkling down on his dear green planet, but no, apparently he just doesn't give a shit.

"And Adalia…" Amanda said slowly. "Is she really…?"

For an answer, I swung the door a bit further, allowing for a better view of the scene behind me. Amanda on tiptoes, peeked her head over my shoulder, widening eyes affixed to the unmoving figure sprawled atop crumpled sheets.

"Oh," Amanda settled back on solid footing and glanced back at me. "I'm sorry."

"Was gonna end up like this sooner or later. Nothing to be sorry for. Besides… rather this than her going psycho again, honestly."

"Oh definitely," Amanda shuddered. "No psycho, please."

We've been standing on opposites of the doorway for over a minute now, and I've yet to figure out a reason why she was even here apart from engaging in a bit of small talk… even then, couldn't see it as a solid enough reason.

"Did you need something?" I finally asked.

Apparently, even Amanda forgot why she was even knocking on my door in the first place. Her head immediately perked, as if it was just dawning on her. Her hands, which up to this point, she had firmly behind her back, began to round themselves over back to the front, and in them, presented before my eyes, was a small empty ceramic cup.

"Could you kindly… make me an expresso again?" She asked timidly. "I, uh, tried doing what you did. Many times. I failed. Could you… just show me how it's done?"

Okay. So the only reason at all for this social call here, the reason why she was knocking on my door at 12 in the afternoon was so that I could satisfy a growing caffeine addiction that I may or may not had inadvertently caused in the first place?

That's really her reason? Well, then...

Good enough for me.

"I'll be right with you."