My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World



Choices. Decisions. 

Michael never liked making them, much less even thinking about them… and when it came to making the right ones… sometimes it was hard to say if he had made any at all. 

It was more Lilith's specialty, anyway. Never needing to brood or to second-guess whatever may confront her. Somehow, every choice she made always seemed to be the best. He admired that about her. One of the very few aspects of her that he could never hope to match. 

And right then, he needed that foresight - between the lie and the truth - he needed to choose right. 

What was the most logical, the most sensible, the most… right. It was the least he could do now as a friend. 

"You'd pay back everything?" Michael asked after a while. "Every single thing  you stole?"

"How many times do I have to say it? Yes, yes, of course!" Rudy said, growing more exasperated. "It'll take time, it'll be slow, but I'll get it done. Just give me the chance to - you'll see."

Again, Michael went quiet. But Rudy had already long run out of patience and with a blink, he was in his vision again, pleading still, with desperation at its peak.

"Look, He doesn't have to know, Michael! God, would you just - !"

Suddenly, there was a screech of tires from right outside. They all turned collectively, and there, beneath the harsh spotlight of the glaring, summer heat, was a car, a customer… or so it seemed at first. 

"Oh, damn," Matt said, the closest to the entrance. "What a fucking beaut." 

Charles let out a whistle, agreeing completely, staring from a little further in.

Michael took a step closer and found his sight drenched in a coat of sleek, spotless white. He could hear the rumble of the engine idling, vivacious, loud, and powerful, with every ample curve, every rimmed edge of the vehicle trimmed and molded to absolute perfection. 

Day in, day out, what entered and left the shop usually consisted of battered, run-down heaps of dented metal, chugging and sputtering onward still just short of their expiration. 

From what was obvious, what needn't be guessed, whoever it was that had rolled into the driveway did not arrive here as a customer in need of any service.

The driver-side door swung wide open, and a near-lustrous pair of black shoes stepped out onto the paved concrete. A man emerged immediately after, billowing winds fluttering the tailored-ends of a suit and tie, exuding every ounce the elegance, the refinement, and much more. 

Rudy recognized the man at once, cowering a step back. Michael did too, always suspected it, had always sensed it, catching glimpses of his sharp, calculating gaze staring at him every step of the way… and after last night's affairs… he couldn't have been more certain of it, of him. 

The man walked closer, a friendly, amiable air hiding the utter guile behind a warm smile. 

"Quite a storm we had last night, didn't we, fellas?" He said, beaming all around. "Had to spend all night salvaging all I could - leaky ceiling - really messed up everything." 

"Sounds like you came to the wrong place, then," Matt said with a friendly chuckle. "Carpenter's still a few blocks down the road… 'less you're telling us you live in your car."

"Might as well be. You know how it is these days," The man sniggered in return, his gaze briefly, and catching Michael briefly in the eye. "Call me Dave. Pleasure." 

"Matt," the old man said, reaching out and shaking his hand. "Rest of us - don't need to know 'em. All total amateurs. You need something, I'm your guy." 

"That so?" Dave said, stepping back and momentarily looking up in thought. "That case, Matt - I don't suppose you sell any air fresheners around here, do you?"

"Air fresheners? Really, fresheners? Ehh…" Matt furrowed his brow, thinking hard. "...don't know, maybe? Could check the back."

He bowed his head, still ever so courteous. "Please do." 

"That it? Don't even want a quick peek under the hood? Check if everything's all good in there?"

"Everything's fine," Dave assured. "And if I do happen to think of anything else, then I know my guy, don't I? Go please, and oh, do take your time with it. I want only the very best you can find… and given your uncertainty before, I surmise that could take a while."

Matt made some noises, and grunts, "Do my best, I guess." 

"Charles, go with him," Michael suddenly spoke up, following up quickly with an explanation before Charles had the chance to inquire. "I forgot to unpack some boxes, they're for you - the Sedan - you can go pick it up." 

Though slightly begrudging, Charles eventually complied, leaving his lunch, half-eaten, loosely wrapped on his seat, twirling a chain of keys around a finger as he headed for the storeroom, with Matt trailing closely behind. 

As soon as they were out of sight, there was no longer any need to pretend. The man strolled forward, toward Michael, motives no longer obscured in politeness. 

"Small world, Michael," The man said to him. "Long time no see." 

"Dave," Michael muttered. "Stop this nonsense now." 

"Always wondered about you since that day, you know?" Dave said, ignoring him. "How you were doing, what you were doing. I had a feeling you were around here, but was never really sure… until last night, that is…" He paused, chuckling faintly. "What a storm, indeed." 

"You're here for Rudy?" 

Dave's eyes veered over, throwing Rudy the slightest, most dispassionate glimpse, who had been attempting to make himself vanish behind Michael's back. 

"After what has happened, I daresay you don't really need me to explain my presence here, do you?"

"Then if you're here to collect," Michael said, stepping into his line of sight again. "I suppose I don't need to explain to you why that's not going to happen."

"Or what, Michael?" Dave calmly asked, brows raised an inch. "Are you going to break my arm too?" 

"If I have to." 

"I don't doubt you would, but I'm afraid to say that we are at an impasse here. Your friend Rudy here… unfortunately for us… it really is quite the significant debt he owes." 

"Stop being unreasonable."

"Unreasonable?" Dave let out a small mirthless laugh. "Believe me, I've been more lenient than you think. All the extensions, the second chances…"

"I don't believe you."

"Why else do you think I'm here, then?" He asked, a little dismayed. "Had it been Dwight… tell me, Rudy… would you rather him?" 

Michael felt his eyes narrow. "Who is Dwight?"

"The… the guy I owe…" Rudy quietly muttered. "The person we were gonna visit later…" 

"Do you really believe that after what you've done for me, I would return the favor by accosting your friends?" Dave asked Michael. "But alas, I cannot influence or control who my colleagues choose to engage with in their nightly endeavors." 

For a long while, Michael kept his eyes on Dave's. For an individual so deeply embroidered in deceit, he was strangely honest, genuine, so much so that he could not find any reason to doubt his statements… with Rudy's continued silence only affirming them further. 

"What you've done for him?" Rudy repeated the words, gazing blankly in confusion. "Wait, Michael, how do you… how do you know each other, exactly?" 

No one volunteered an answer, with Dave promptly speaking up once again. 

"And after last night, after the things you did to Dwight's men, I'm afraid there really is no longer any more room for leniency. You did not pay, and worst, you've inconvenienced us. Shame too," he slowly shook his head. "It really would've been your last…"

Rudy's lips began to tremble. "I-I…" 

"It was self-defense," Michael interjected. "They attacked us first." 

"In that case, we can address this matter over to the proper authorities if you'd prefer," Dave said simply. "But bear in mind, it is our words over yours, over his…" 

With a nudge of his chin, Dave directed focus back towards Rudy, and the young man's head slowly sank downward with the implications. 

"The men that were assaulted… honest, clean delivery men disregarding appearances. Not a stain on their record. The people we associate with… we make sure that is always the case. Whereas you…" He formed a slight frown, vaguely, almost resembling a look of sympathy.  "The thief, the crook, the felon. Ask yourself, how heavy would your words weigh? Are you really willing to go through all that hassle? I'd rather not… and something tells me neither would you."

The more he spoke, the more Rudy seemed to shrivel up in despair. So easily swayed by words, so easily influenced… it's almost no wonder he wound up being conned. Michael, on the other hand, heard more than just empty threats. 

"Tell us, then," he calmly said, looking deep into the enigmatic glint in Dave's eyes. "What would you rather do?" 

That glint softened, and brightened, and all was instantly made clear the moment Dave stared back. 

"I'd rather make you an offer of my own," he said, and lifting his arm, extended a gloved hand forward. "Work with me, Michael. As partners. As equals." 

The wind blew, dampening the rumble of the car engine up ahead, and somewhere afar, resounded the slam of something falling from the shelves. All in a second. A second of total silence. Then that second extended to the next, and then to the other. Michael continued to stare down at Dave's outstretched palm, feeling no urge to raise his own. 

Rudy was the one to break the sudden quiet, filling it with nothing but the sound of bewilderment. 

"You want… wait… You want Michael to join your… gang?" 

"Not a gang," Dave corrected sharply. "A business. In return, all would be forgiven and forgotten. The debt, the attack last night. It'd be far behind us. I'll see to it personally." 

"See to it…" Michael repeated in a low mutter. "...and you can't do that without me?" 

"Can't return empty-handed, can I?" he said, smiling. 

"So you'll clear the debt in exchange for me. I'm worth that much to you." 

"And why not? I think you and I both know you're certainly worth so much more - the things you do, the things you can do, yet you don't… it's baffling to me."

"It's not the life for me." 

"Three men walked in, and you sent them away shambling. A man threatens, even stabs you with a knife and yet you barely bat an eye, and you still claim otherwise? It's a wonder what you're even doing here, doing this… when it seems like you were made for a different life entirely." 

"Wait, wait, one second, one sec - stabbed? You, Michael? What is he on about?" 

Rudy rounded at him, eyes and mouth both wide open. But Michael didn't elaborate, narrowing all focus toward the man before them, and his all-too-knowing stare.

"Reconsider," Dave said. "I strongly suggest you do. With me, you'll make even more good use of your skills. I've no doubt you'll fit right in just perfect."

"Extorting?" Michael inquired. "Harassing? Threatening?" 

"See, this is why you're perfect, Michael. With you, there's no need for all that. You can reason, you can compromise, do as you see fit… and only to those that are deserving. You know how I operate. You'll rarely find qualms with me, I assure you." 

"I'm sure there are more than just petty qualms I'll have with you."

"Maybe, maybe not, but honestly, Michael…" Dave jerked his hand, still outstretched, still in offer. "...Aren't you bored with all of this?" 

Once again, a moment of silence permeated the space between them. A much shorter one this time, as suddenly, from the distance, echoed the rusty squeak of overworn hinges. 

Rudy audibly took a large draw of breath, eyes quivering in pure panic; Jamie had just stepped out of his office, had noticed the commotion going on nearby, and slowly but gradually, began pacing towards them. 

"M-Michael," He stammered in a rushed whisper, darting his gaze frantically between both men. "My uncle is… we need to… can we talk somewhere else? We gotta…!" 

"Haven't heard your choice yet, Michael," Dave spoke over him. "Yes or no?" 

Michael could hear Jamie steadily inch closer, the rapid patter of Rudy's foot in apprehension, more scuffling from the back, the engine still rumbling, and a dozen more reverberating all over… yet none were louder than his head, his thoughts, still at a complete loss to the most logical, the most sensible… the most right. 

Somewhere in the silent pandemonium, he recalled asking Lilith how she could choose and act on things so freely and easily. He remembered her laughing, smiling at him, as she explained to him briefly, 'I just do what I feel like.'

And right then, after hearing and knowing everything, Michael still didn't know what was right. 

But he did certainly know what he felt like. 

What felt right.

The next second, the wind continued to blow, Rudy was still high in alarm, and Michael was reaching out, and gripping Dave's hand. 

"Good choice," Dave affirmed, letting go, and stepping back. "Real good choice." 

At that moment, Jamie stepped in, a beaming smile protruding out of his bushy 'mustache. 

"Really hope you aren't trying to upsell the nice man, Rudy," he chimed with a small chuckle, clasping Rudy around the shoulder. "What's going on here anyway? What's the problem? What needs fixing?" 

Glances were exchanged, a fleeting moment of words, agreements, unspoken, before Dave beamed right back. 

"No, nothing, nothing at all. Just browsing, conversing. I think I'm done here for today anyway."

"I see," Jamie's smile faltered slightly. "Well, if you do need any tinkering, you know where to go."

"Oh, don't you worry about that," He said, throwing Michael the briefest glance. "I have a feeling I'll be back here again really soon." 

"Ah! Music to my ears." 

"Tell Matt to reserve a freshener for me when I return, alright?" Dave said to Rudy, parting back to his car with a quick wave and a final look back at Jamie. "Nice kid you got there, you know." 

"The best any uncle could ask for," Jamie said with echoing pride. "Haven't given a single reason for me to think otherwise." 

Eventually, Dave left. Eventually so did Jamie too. Eventually, Matt returned from the back with Charles, grumbling and cursing about wasted time and effort upon hearing the news. Eventually, all was back to normal again. 

And it was in that normal, that calmness, that Rudy approached Michael once more. 

"I… you… what you did… what…" he couldn't speak well, eyes glazed, still stuck in the moment. "I don't understand… what did you just do?" 

Michael heard his voice, heard the shock and confusion that he couldn't muster inside him, and spoke, "I helped you." 

"You're going with him," Rudy stepped closer, his expression pale with worry. "I made you… God… I just made you…" 

"I helped you, Rudy," Michael stated again. "You're welcome." 

Yet Rudy looked anything but grateful, his gaze strained and with an almost misty shimmer to it. 

"I'm sorry… I… I didn't want you to… for me… you shouldn't have… you didn't deserve - I didn't deserve to be…!" 

"You want to repay me, keep your promise," Michael said simply. "That's all you need to do. Don't make me regret my choice." 

"Of course, I know, I will! But - !" 

"But nothing, understand? Not another word," then, a step at a time, Michael shuffled past him, taking his half-eaten lunch along with. "Tell Jamie I'm leaving early today." 

"Leave? Wait, what?" Rudy blinked, small tears dropping fast, and quickly turned around. "Where are you going?" 

'Home," Michael said with a dismal sigh, already anticipating, already hearing the taunts and giggles awaiting him at the front door. "Gonna have to tell my wife I found a new job elsewhere." 

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