My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

Two Sides Of A Door

Admittedly, it was a strange place and time to get all sentimental-like with the setting, especially since I was essentially staring at my bare naked self in the mirror dressed in nothing but my boxers.

Still, that didn’t stop that fuzzy feeling from lingering inside me all throughout the fitting session, I came out of the dressing room with my happiness meter all the way to the max only to be slapped in the face with –

“Bad. Go back. Try this.”

Ria flung the next set of clothes at supersonic speed, screeching to a halting stop as it slammed against my now rigid smile, before plopping down to my outstretched hands below.

Without another word, I turned tail and reentered the safe space, where I swore to never again show any form of weakness.

And so thus began a small mini fashion show presented by yours truly with your host Ria the Phoenix, and world-renowned Adalia the Matriarch acting as our judge for today.

How well would I fare against such scrutinizing gazes upon me? Find out in the next episode of Fashion Wars.

If there was ever an Olympic event for clothes wearing, well you’re looking at a pioneer right here, I had worn plenty of shirts and taken off enough pants to actually become a connoisseur in the sacred art of jacket on, jacket off.

.....

Pretty sure I’m unknowingly holding a world record by now. Gonna have to verify with Guinness on that whenever I get a chance.

In terms of presentation, however, I wasn’t faring all that well on that front.

4/10s sometimes 5s, don’t think I ever got rated a 6 yet, despite the selections of clothes getting smaller by the minute.

“How’s this?” I asked in what was to be my 32nd time exiting the fitting room.

Ria paused, Adalia stared and I held my breath.

“Better,” shrugged the Phoenix. “Not great, but not terrible. So-so, I guess.”

The Matriarch nodded in agreement.

Well, thank God for that. I just about had it with the boos and jeers.

“So are we done?” I asked, allowing myself some frail semblance of hope.

“Did I say we were?” said Ria, snuffing out that hope so mercilessly. “You’re a fickle contestant. We aren’t gonna stop till you’re fit for public viewing.”

“Thought I was so-so.”

“You ain’t done till I say so,” She threw over another set. “Adalia has a good feeling about this one – oh, keep the jacket you have on now, change everything else.”

By then the routine has pretty much become muscle memory, effortlessly catching the clothes in my hand before they could go splatting on my face.

Guess 33rd time’s the charm.

This fitting room here at the corner of the building was like a home away from home. Think I might have spent more time here than I do in my own room, and because of that familiarity, my whimsical thoughts reigned freely in the short intervals of silence.

I hated being alone with my thoughts.

Somehow they’d always find the shadow to every bright side. In this case, Ria shone bright… and there I was, fiddling with a belt buckle, gazing into the mirror, wondering briefly for her shade.

And unfortunately, just like Ria, I too was a slave to every whim that came to mind, even when I was fully aware that I shouldn’t really be acting upon it.

Call it a bad habit, I guess. I seem to have a lot of those.

“Been thinking, actually,” I spoke out loud.

“If it’s another clothing suggestion, I don’t wanna hear it. The last one was bad enough.”

I was tempted to snap away with a clever retort, but my train of thought refused to be derailed.

“You’re gonna love this one then,” I said.

“Am I now?” There was doubt in her voice.

“Sure, you ready?”

“Go for it.”

“Why were you trapped in that amulet?”

Normally, confrontations were something I’d steer away from. Normally, this wouldn’t even be a question to consider. But that flimsy wooden door between us was like a filter for this sort of thing.

You can ask away, and the only thing that would be staring back at you would be the four walls surrounding you. No eyes, no face, just a wooden slab.

Another normal was a sarcastic response back to that question. Abnormal was the silence that instead followed after. ????????ｎ????????????????. ᴄ????????

I began to unbutton. “If it’s a personal thing, then you don’t really have to say. Was just curious so – ”

“Personal, indeed,” She finally spoke, a hint of amusement in her voice. “Now, I’m curious… how did you even go about thinking about something so irrelevant here?

“We all have our problems. I have mine, certainly. Ash has hers… Adalia, Irene...” I took in a breath. “I just notice that you never share yours.”

My rhythm was all out of sync now. Took forever to remove an article of clothing. It seemed like with every word that funneled out of me, the more difficult the process becomes.

Only downside about the door was that I couldn’t tell what was what. Got no cues to go off of – only her voice, and even that was a puzzle in of itself. Didn’t know if that snort I heard just then was a good or bad one.

“Well, if I do find a problem worth sharing,” She said. “Then I guess I know exactly who to go to now.”

Done with the shirt, I moved on to the jeans, another button to uncouple. “As far as I’m concerned, all problems are worth sharing. Someone as peppy as you are… you gotta have a few things to say, right?”

“I’m happy therefore I have issues?” Somehow I get the feeling she was crossing her arms out there. “How many leaps of logic did you take to find your way to that conclusion?”

“Call me a pessimist, but I find it hard to believe you got to where you are without going through a couple of issues first,” I replied. “I’m just in here wondering if you still are.”

“Oh, no, no, no, you stop yourself right there mister,” She said, airing out again in jest. “You touched the pond with soaps. I live it. I know how this goes. Don’t even think about going there.”

“Why not? Maybe… maybe I can help out.”

Saying that, I readily expected to hear amused laughter brushing the offer away. I did hear that. But what I didn’t expect to hear was just how stiff it sounded out loud.

“Alright, lookie here, let me put it in a way that a benevolent goody-two-shoes like yourself would be able to understand: I am not your damsel to be saved.”

Clearly, I was creeping close to a line there… I knew I shouldn’t cross it, but that closed door, the flow of the conversation, the overbearing quiet – I just couldn’t help myself.

“Whose damsel are you then?”

Muscle memory had me donning on the new set of clothes in a brief span of time. Muscle memory had me gazing at my reflection, seeing myself, and being in disbelief over my own audacity.

Muscle memory without thinking had me opening that door, crumbling away the barrier that had stood between us, to reveal Ria standing right before me, an enigmatic expression plastered on her face.

“Look, Mr. Hero, you don’t really wanna go down my rabbit hole, trust me, you won’t like the burns and scars you’ll get burrowing in… I’m more trouble than you could ever imagine. ‘Sides, don’t forget, it ain’t me you’re going on a date with here. Focus on her, alright?”

Said so lightly, yet her words felt so heavy. Again, there was nary a hint of displeasure, annoyance – it’s like she never gets angry. Always smiling, she was always so bright…

It made me wonder if she’s ever been snuffed.

Couldn’t ask anymore though. Didn’t have that door no more.

“Alright then,” I said, nodding.

She nodded back, smiling, as she did, her eyes shifted up and down, making that smile grow wider.

“Now, you’re looking good,” She said, then spinning herself backward, called out, “Adalia?”

“Yes…” came an approving whisper. “Perfect…”

“The Matriarch gives her blessing,” Ria said, turning back to me. “Guess that’s that then.”

“I suppose,” responded I with a shrug.

“Welp!” She proclaimed, clasping her hands together. “Bring out some of them greens, brother. Let’s bounce this joint.”