My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

731 Present Purpose, Part It occurred to me far too late to bring up Tyler’s quote-unquote ‘accident’ to Adalia.

Her spontaneous appearance was especially spontaneous this time around, and by the time my heart was rested to remember less life-threatening thoughts, she had once again disappeared to thin air as all vampires do.

Or as I think they do. I don’t know, I’ve only ever met just the two.

Best case scenario, she’s gone to meet with Amelia, where she’d inadvertently most likely hear the news from her. Worst case scenario, she’s going to hear it from Amelia.

I decided to go and lament my failures in the showers, and even with the heater set nearly to face-melting temperatures, my mid-morning refresher felt more like a skinny dip in the middle of the antarctic. I lasted about three minutes before calling it quits, digging deep in the cluttered mess of my closet for the thickest, wooliest clothes I owned.

I scavenged a jumper from far in the back, and while it did feel as if I was wearing a cactus, it sure beat the hell out of chattering the teeth out of my gums.

From a gentle knock on my door, Ash diligently informed me of our concerningly low reserves in the fridge. Eager that she was to be proactive after a long time bound in bed, she declared she was off to the market to replenish our supplies.

“There is no need to deprive yourself of rest,” Ash said in response to my offer of accompanying her. “Just rest for the time being, Master. I shall have lunch ready upon my return.”

The prospect of tasting Ash’s home-cooked meals again was enough persuasion for me to sit back and be a good little Master for her.

.....

Before I knew it, a lonely quiet had befell upon the interior of the house. Peace, quiet, and with the freedom to do pretty much of anything… which reminds me.

I walked around the bend of my bed, hearing the faint tinkles of Mr. Black’s collar, swipey paws attempting to pry open the bottom drawer of the bedside table. When I got close enough, Black scurried away onto the mattress, his pointy ears twitching to the rattling sound of the drawer being drawn open.

Yep. There they were still. Exactly where I had left them both. Mom’s mysterious gift as flat and thin as the festive wrappings layered over it, and Dad’s jagged ring resting atop the dingy box it came bequeathed within.

Wordlessly, I took both out and laid on the bed. Tucked in the ribbon strapping of the unwrapped gift, Mom’s elegant handwriting jumped out at me like a friendly, loving reminder… almost as if it was beckoning me, coaxing me… as all loving mother’s do.

I let my phone ring away at one side as I began feeling around with the gift again, too frightened to do anything else lest risk opening some kind of Pandora’s present. Two birds with one stone, I figured I could ask Mom about Harry’s condition, and also finally get a what’s what about what the hell she had handed to me here.

By the fourth ring of the dial tone, I realigned my attention to my phone. Doesn’t usually take this long for her to answer. When it got to the fifth reaching beep, it got abruptly cut by a sharp buzz of static, rustling noises, and to my utter bewilderment, the lowest raspiest grunt I’ve heard.

“Hello,” chimed a roguish voice that definitely wasn’t my mother’s. “She’d figured you’d call sooner or later.”

I bent down over my phone, briefly flicking my gaze to the name of the recipient above, and frowned.

“Where’s Mom?”

“Bed. Sick. Asleep,” Dad bluntly answered. “I assume you’re calling about the gifts we sent?”

“Among various other things, yes.”

He made another husky noise. “Did you open them yet?”

“I opened yours,” I said, pinching his gift between my fingers and raising it up to my gaze. “Frederika’s ring. Firstly, you had it all along with you? Secondly, you’re giving it to me?”

“So you already know what it is,” He said approvingly. “And if you know what it is, then you know what it was used for.”

“A vessel to store her limitless power,” I said, echoing Irene’s words. “And upon her death, it was lost to time.”

“Until it came under my possession, that is,” Dad said. “And now it is in yours.”

“Is this supposed to be a family heirloom now or something? What do you even want me to do with this? Use it?”

“Keep it,” was his simple and sincere answer. “I just wished for you to have it. You know your heritage now, bits and pieces of ancient history. I see no reason to continue hiding things from you. That ring is all I have left of the past, and it’s wasted gathering dust in my custody. So it’s yours now.”

In spite of his reason, I still kept a slightly dubious stance. You get an ancient relic from a long-deceased Goddess from another realm entirely, you don’t just bat an eye at that and move on.

“I doubt you found this just sitting in a treasure chest in a dungeon somewhere,” I muttered.

“No, I didn’t.”

“So where did you…?”

“Somewhere,” was all he spoke about it, the faintest trace of amusement leaving with his voice. “And knowing about the movie you’re involved in, I’m keen to find out for myself.”

My fingers continued to turn and swivel the craggy silvery band of the ring, in awe of its simplicity, its blandness, especially coming from the vestiges of a literal Divine entity, and also kinda half-expecting it to just suddenly blow up in my face any second.

‘It’s not dangerous,” Dad said, almost as if reading my thoughts. “When I came upon the ring, the magic contained within had already long faded. Now it’s just a ring.”

“Just a ring, huh?”

“Well, if you really want to, you can choose to store some of your magic within it just as Frederika had. Its purpose as a vessel can still be utilized. Though I don’t see a point as to why you should use it that way. I prefer its other purpose to be quite honest.”

“Other purpose?” I asked, interrupting the side-by-side comparison I was doing with the keychain attached to my phone. “You mean this ring was made to be more than just a catalyst for magic?”

Dad grunted under a breath, and in my head, I could picture his usual stoic expression forming the slightest of cracks. “I thought you already knew what its purpose was. You said you did.”

“Yeah, I thought I did,” I responded. “Up until you put it like that. What? What do you know that I don’t?”

“The ring was not forged solely to hold host to Frederika’s power,” Dad began, speaking with all the flair and grandeur of a muddy puddle. “It was made as a symbol of love and devotion gifted to her by her dearly beloved, you see. A mortal man from an age long past, that had found himself falling immensely infatuated with his Goddess the first moment he had laid his eyes upon her.”

I forgot immediately what I was doing, what I was thinking, and the ring slipped away from my fingers, falling, landing, and rolling across the wrinkled sheets, coming to a stop and laying flat beside its identical other… Amanda’s gift glimmers with the same silvery luster.

“So, to put it simply, what you have there in your hands...” Dad’s voice continue to dully resound, finishinly monotonously. “... is nothing less than the world’s oldest engagement ring.”

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