My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

In the many days that would follow, the drizzling snow would fall in thicker, heavier clumps, encasing the manor grounds in a vast field of endless white, and rebirthing the many barren, naked trees as blossoming clouds rooted to the frozen earth.

And as the season continued to run its course, the temptation of winter's biting breath was starting to have a troubling, prevalent effect on her performance.

It started subtly; her mind drifting blank between the paragraphs during her studies, how the inked letters on the pages began appearing somewhat blotched and blurred. Then soon, she noticed how heavy her body seem to sway or just how frequently she found herself loss for breath, turning even the simplest of household tasks into an uphill battle struggling to keep her composure.

When her weapon slipped so suddenly from her grip during one blistering cold sparring session, Tilina had ultimately decided and ordered her to take the rest of the evening to recuperate.

"You cannot best what is in your very nature," She said when heavy, strained gruntings could be heard in opposition, effortlessly pulling out the ax that Eshwlyn had embedded deep into a nearby tree. "Elves are not made to prosper in the cold. You wish to defy this fact of life, then adapt—only do so slowly—it is unwise to force this any more than you already have. Rest. I shall have the potions master brew you a remedy to alleviate the pain. Once I've assessed that you are capable again, only then shall I call upon you to fulfill your duties once more."

But a single evening's respite could not rid her of her debilitating affliction, nor could the new few days after. Her body longed for a proper slumber, to sleep the harsh bitter season away, and only awake to the familiar humid bloom of spring's arrival.

Had that fateful day never transpired, had she never been so careless… perhaps she would still be residing within the burrow, and in her arms, Lenora would be… the both of them quietly, peacefully, taking refuge in each other's comforting warmth from winter's unpleasant embrace.

Instead, there she sat, watching the slow endless fall of snow in the murky gray of day by the windowsill, fogging the glass panels with her fervent breaths, pouring sweat dampening the carpet, forcing herself to study, to practice, to do anything but rest.

Because she could not rest, she could not do nothing—not when everything yet hung in the balance, not when Lenora's fate remained so precarious and so deeply wrought in forebodings. She had to keep getting better, keep striving for excellence, and fulfill her destined role… and should the path to it be paved only with untold, unbearable sufferings… then so be it.

Then during one, unassuming night, Eshwlyn slowly found herself rousing to an unprecedented cold, her bleary eyes scanning the pitch black of her bedroom, instantly adjusting, and immediately spotting the raving glint of deep scarlet looming over her in the dark.

Practice and instinct quickly took control of her body, quickly sitting her upright, tossing her disheveled mess of hair into a bow, and out of her lips croaked a raspy, nasally sound that vaguely resembled the word, "Master!"

Wilvur smiled back at her—an expression, a face, she had not seen for ages—and in his absence, more lines had formed on his pale skin, subtly telling of his age, his mane of white locks had only gotten longer and more curled over time, and there was a light shadow across his jaw, a stubble of silver hair adding more to his already daunting presence.

"Good evening, Eshwlyn," He quietly whispered, yet his voice still boomed in the silence regardless. "Ah—don't get up—you may stay as you are. Let me not take away from your comfort, not just yet, especially in such unrelenting weather."

His stark crimson eyes flitted and swerved across the darkness, coming to a gradual stop, as WIlvur sat down at the edge of her bed, staring out at a raging blizzard pouring outside her window.

Eshwlyn's head pounded, her mind was racing—but when she finally spoke again, her voice was calm and steady, courteous even… something that did not exist in their prior conversation. "I wasn't aware that you would be returning tonight."

"No. Neither do most people, thank the Divines. I rather not deal with prattling right now. I did not plan to return for the winter, you see. For quite a while now, I had been far abroad. The dragons' migration loom closer by the day. A lucrative venture, as you may very well know… seeing as you were…" He trailed away from his words and looked back at her, choosing instead to begin anew. "Alas,  it is not my exploits I wish to hear and drone about, but yours! Truly, I'm pleased — Tilina has been keeping me up to speed with your progress, and from what I hear, your level of devotion and dedication is quite commendable. Why, you've even rid me of all my staff members. Needless to say, they weren't exactly satisfied with your devotion… but know that I am. Very much so."

At once, Eshwlyn gave another bow, her earnestness resounding between breaths. "It is my life's bidding only to please you. I have done only as I was requested. Nothing more."

"Indeed," Wilvur nodded, before forming a small frown, perhaps noticing the audible strain in her voice. "And yet, I do not recall it a necessity of mine for you to persist through the winter. You Elves are not built for such harsh climates, yes? Forcing you through it would only hinder your progression. I believe I've told Tilina that you may hibernate should it become a necessity."

Eshwlyn peered into his eyes, into the swirling crimson, affirming what her rousing ears had already heard—a kindness, compassion, glimmering red that she had once thought impossible.

"I… it is of my own discretion, to endure this encumbrance" She explained. "To improve, to hone myself, even in the face of great adversity, in order to better serve you. To simply rest now, would be an affront to all the care you have given me."

"Spoken like a true Knight," echoed the approval in his voice, a wide smile beaming back at her. "In that case, then, surely you wouldn't mind if I enlisted your aid in a small problem I am having currently?"

"My aid?" Her ears perked, and she straightened her lax posture, sitting diligently at attention. "You've… Master has a task for me? Personally?"

"Apparently so," He exclaimed, sharing in her surprise. "If you're feeling up to it, that is."

"I am," She declared at once, then a wonder popped into her mind. "Is this why you've returned, Master? In order to resolve this problem of yours?"

Wilvur nodded, the smile slowly fading from his expression. "Mm, I'm afraid so. It is a regrettable ordeal. One that I intend to never allow again a second recurrence… and the quicker this is dealt with, the better for all of us."

"I sense, Master, that there is more to this than you are letting on…"

"Clever girl," He snorted, both pleased and amused. "But alas, this is neither the time nor place for further elaboration. Come," He stood up. "Rise to your feet, get dressed. We leave in haste. I've already prepared a pair of horses for us. Surely, Tilina has taught you how to ride one already, yes?"

"She has," Eshwlyn confirmed, recalling fleetingly the faint flashes of freedom she felt galloping across the grounds, the rushing, exhilarating wind blowing in her face. "But… Master, did I hear you correctly? Only a pair? Surely it wouldn't be just us two alone?"

"Oh yes, it would be just us two," Wilvur said, his faint outline already pacing towards the exit. "I prefer if we approach this matter as discreetly as possible. Bringing any more would only attract unwanted attention… and with this especially… yes… the less people know, the better… indeed."

Her curiosity had reached a peak, but she did not question anymore and simply did as commanded. She ignored the pain, the incessant pounding, and instead focused only on the task ahead of her.

This was it. A chance to prove herself. An opportunity to live up to his impossible demands. If she could just make this a resounding success, if she could just only pull this off… then perhaps maybe, possibly… in the rush, euphoria, in his good graces… she could ask of him for…

"Oh, dear me, I forgot to mention. Right, so, should you succeed in this task, should you actually live up to your potential," Wilvur said, a vague smile looming beneath the doorway, his scarlet eyes piercing through her, almost as if in knowing, in understanding, of her intentions, wanting only to indulge them. "Then perhaps you reuniting with your dear sister would make for quite a deserving reward."

Or else, exploit them.

"Don't you think so?"