My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World-Chapter 887 In Liminal Time

Because love is the most powerful force in the universe unfortunately, I went ahead and sat through a couple more rounds of ancient Kronocian throat-singing.

Based on her song selections so far, it seems that Ria was on a long nostalgia trip through the decades. From fifties jive, sixties groove, all the way to seventies disco and eighties funk. She'd take intermissions after each song, diving into the fridge and returning back onstage with a donut or a drink or whatever to rejuvenate her clearly non-existent vocal cords.

Then she looks up, every single time coming or going, she'd look up. Those playful, boisterous eyes reverting for a moment, the slightest second, glancing at the time on the wall, and immediately after, she'd be right back to it headbanging to the nineties.

I wasn't sure what exactly she was waiting for; an arbitrary time limit for the second hand to wind down to? Each time her gaze strayed, it was like a roll of the dice. Whether we had finally reached that limit or if we were buckling in for another encore.

Worse still, nobody cared to ask, or acknowledged it even. As if the night was forever, as if all the fun was. And I can understand it. The moment anybody brings up what's about to happen - bam - it's happened. No one likes a buzzkill.

I suppose there really was no better way to let it happen than just kinda… wait for it to happen. Give it some time.

Time will always tell.

That being said, ain't as if there was really only one way to spend that time.

"Alright, hand it over."

I jumped out of my seat, battered eardrums still ringing from the last song, and even with my arm extended forward - Ria had to take another moment still processing what exactly it was I was doing.

"Oh - oh shit!" she exclaimed, gasping loud and wide. "No way, no, you're kidding! Whatever happened to being boring? Where's that? You're the straight man. The straight man don't sing."

"Prove you wrong," I just said, grabbing the mic from her very poor, very drunk grip, and inched a bit further ahead, browsing through the song selections to find something fitting more in line with the century.

Figured if I was just gonna sit around and do nothing, might as well sing… 'least it's something, right?

After picking a tune that I was half-confident I remembered, I spun around back to face my audience of two. Ria had taken my place, much like how I took hers - practically rubbing shoulders with Irene, close as close can be, and absolutely determined to infect her with her air of enthusiasm.

"Boyfriend's up there now," she said, teasing and leaning in a smirk without restraint. "So? Heart pumping? Got your face warming up? Feeling excited in all sorts of funny ways? Anything to say at least?"

"Yeah, shut up," Irene said plainly and lightly, scooting closer to the edge of her seat. "I want to hear him sing."

So I sang. No rhyme, nor reason, just simply airing out my lungs for the sake of doing so. I wasn't exactly on the way to winning any Grammys, but I can at least say for sure that I could hold a tune better than… a certain other gal.

Honestly, I'd probably do a whole lot better if I actually focused on the song. Instead my gaze kept glued to the crowd, the reception I was getting - watching their beaming faces and wondering what lay behind one another's smile.

Irene had never looked more at peace and laid back in all the time I've known her that it surely had to be a record. Her head bobbing along in tune, looking so encouraging every time we locked eyes, wholesome and pure; I kinda feel a little guilty for being slightly perturbed by it.

Meanwhile, Ria remained her usual shameless, bubbly self. Nothing new there. The woman was a whole crowd in and of itself, whooping and yelling, trying to sing along in the most off-key way possible, all while happily sipping the rest of the wine we had leftover from before.

Take a photo, frame it on a wall, and I don't think you'd find a better picture of bliss this side of heaven. And in a photo, those moments, those feelings are forever.

Unfortunately, reality doesn't really work the same way…

Moments finish, time passes, and sometimes, it just really sucks.

In no time at all, I finished singing my song, and in a funny twist, I must say in retrospect, nothing about my performance was as memorable and striking as Ria's. A lukewarm mediocrity compared to her blazing horridness. If nothing else, 'least she stood out.

Nevertheless, I got a round of applause. Even got Ria up in a standing ovation. And then in between the moment, she did it again - glancing up ever so slightly before speaking up in her usual springiness.

"Not bad, not bad," She said, giving the face and stare of an appraising talent judge. "Heard worse - also heard better. Also pretty clear you didn't snag Irene by serenading her to bed."

I swear, was there ever a blacker kettle anywhere? Christ…

"I liked it," Irene offered her two cents, somehow the more satiable of the two. Then she blinked, glanced at me, and blinked even more. "Wouldn't mind hearing a little more."

Ria rolled her eyes.

"Ignore her, she's biased."

"And that makes you - what?" I asked. "I noticed she hasn't ranked you."

"Critical, reliable," she said quickly. "I have an ear for this sort of thing, in case you can't tell."

"Oh, I really couldn't."

My sarcasm failed to escape her, and I was met with her silent scorn as she walked over and took the mic back from me. I had only just returned my seat, only just seen her almost reach to choose another song before she abruptly stopped in place - looking up again.

This time though, she didn't look back.

Ria's shoulders gradually sank, as did her arms, the microphone just only barely wrapped around her hand as her thumb slid over the switch, and the small green LED light on the front pulsed for the final time.

She then slowly turned to look at us, both of us, the most rigid smile stiffening the rest of her expression. For a single, brief moment I was amused. And I really couldn't tell you why… not until she let out a breath, a shaky one at that, and I realized that that was actually meant to be a chuckle.

I realized that… even for all of her wit, all of the charm she holds to effortlessly appease and beguile the whole world, not even Ria could make the transition toward goodbye any less difficult.

No one's that good, I suppose.

"So," she finally spoke again, thrusting her arms broadly forward, mic still in hand, before swinging them back and letting them dangle loose. "I guess… this is it?"

I didn't know what to say, or what to do. All night waiting for this moment to arrive, and now that is here… what do we do here?

"Already?" Irene suddenly said beside me. "I honestly thought you'd go for another song first."

She sounded quite impartial, a level of indifference enough to encourage Ria to carry on as normal.

"Nah, your boyfriend already ended on a high note, right? Pointless to follow that up," she shrugged, tossing the mic on an empty couch. "And it's late. Got kids waiting for me too, you know?"

Irene didn't reply, but it didn't come from a place of hesitance. She wore no reluctance. In her stare, in her silence, there was only just acceptance.

Just doing as told, as promised. No trying to stop her, no saying a word. In her seat, she sat… ready to watch her go.

To just let her go.

"So, how does this work again?" Ria asked, pacing aimlessly to the left. "Just go back in the room, fall asleep?"

Irene gave a nod.

"Well, good thing I already drank as much as I could," Ria said with a snicker. "Just gotta give a minute or two and there I go."

Was this really how it was all gonna end? Saying farewell, the last few minutes together… this simple, this nonchalant, this… dispassionate?

"And you look like you have a few words to say over there," Ria remarked, cocking both a brow and a smile at me. "Last chance, you know? Ain't like there's a next time for regrets. If you got something to say…"

I considered it. I really, really did consider it. I had words all lined up, my voice just at the tip of my tongue. At that moment, I didn't care for anyone else's wants, desires, motives and intents… right then, I only cared about my own.

And every impulse, with every fiber of my being, I wanted her to stay. I dared hope, I thought just maybe Ria wanted to too, just secretly, intrinsically. She just needed a slight push, a single nudge.

Or perhaps Irene just needed more time - maybe she was just biding her time. Eventually, she'd speak up and convince her to say. ｂ𝚎ｄｎ𝚘ｖ𝚎ｌ.𝚌𝚘ｍ

After venting all her feelings out to me on all of those occasions… it can't all be simply for nothing, right?

Irene…

I looked at her again, and she returned my gaze, peering back, sharing with me but a single look… and nothing about the way she stared resembled any way she looked back then.

Doubts. Fears. Regrets. I couldn't find them in her anymore. Was this really how she felt? Was she really okay with this? An ending like this, a goodbye like this? Was she…?

"If you're still the same piece of work I remember you being," Ria said, arms crossed in expectation. "Then I guess I still got me a knight in shining armor to save the day, no?"

I already let her leave once. Was I really going to let her go again?

Was it even - was it ever my choice in the first place?

I breathed in deep.

"No," I replied. "Learned my lesson once already."

I looked at her, wearing my best smile… hoping to God it wasn't as stiff as it felt to me.

"I'm not your knight."