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Chapter 182: A Helping Hand
🕑 Added 2023-11-19 03:31:00 +0000 UTCOnce upon a time, the elves were welcome travellers amidst the continent.
Touring the land as guests and dignitaries, they offered their wisdom to the youngest races. Yet now, they toured the land as refugees, forced to make their homes amidst the bleakest corners of realms they once viewed as beneath them.
And in my kingdom, they made their home upon our easternmost border.
Occupying the forest in the volatile border with Granholtz, they were a merry presence amidst the storm, frolicking while at our mercy and our behest.
After all, despite being homeless, they were by no means discontent.
Famed dancers, bards and singers. The elves were matched only in their ability to spread joy as they were in their talent for doing so without paying a single crown. For which ruler wished to tax those who only wished to make the flowers bloom where only weeds existed before?
… Meaning, of course, that the elves were simply better at public relations than other vagrants.
Oh, they sang their songs and told their tales. Yet the harps they played and the tomes they wrote were not gifted for free.
Indeed, there was no official in any kingdom who did not recognise them for what they were. Shrewd entrepreneurs with silver tongues and golden purses, whose plight was espoused in courts across the continent through the voices of diplomats, envoys and luminaries under their employ.
In short … the most offensively dull of parasites.
Leeches nibbling on the fringes of my kingdom. The difference between them and the rest were that elves did not demand more than complete ignorance. They held no positions in court, boasted no sons in office and no daughters playing at spying handmaidens.
Whereas nobility, adventurers and holy men haggled for voices in my kingdom’s institutions, elves politicked to a standard as exciting as a deflated soufflé. Their wish was our obliviousness. And in return, they would tend to our furthest gardens and humour the whims of tourists, eking out an existence as jesters and curiosities.
But this?
My … this was quite different.
Elven silver, singing as it was released from sheaths.
A sound few heard ... for all who did lacked the remaining limbs to tell the tale.
Even as they sought to present themselves as merrymakers, the legend of their martial skill was as known as the Emerald Knights which once served in their palaces and their halls.
For a moment, I eyed the wall of glimmering blades as they approached.
And all I could feel was horror.
“Wait. Stop.”
After a notable pause, the elven count raised a palm. The hint of a smirk played at his lips as he viewed my morbid expression. One which only grew with each passing moment.
Indeed … this was even worse than I imagined.
Because as I continued eyeing the elven blades … all I could see was a mirror reflecting the single loose strand of hair I had falling down past my cheek.
Wasn’t this too awful?!
My noble quest was one of sacrifice! I knew this! Sometimes, as I woke up and stared at a fresh damp upon a ceiling, I felt less like a princess and just someone incredibly wealthy and beautiful! That was a lowering of standards nobody deserved!
But this … it wasn’t just myself suffering. It was my entire kingdom!
For a moment, it was all I could do to fidget on the spot, angling myself as I searched out the best reflection of myself. I was an icon of my kingdom, my beauty a spell as famed as any elven song. A single imperfection was a blemish which could harken the end of alliances and dissolve friendships!
“I see your boldness unravels at the sight of our swords,” said the count, leaning against his table. “A pity. The presumptuousness of an adventurer strolling into our midst was certainly a novelty I wasn't expecting.”
“Yes, that much is clear … why, even with a sufficient bed, I see that so long as the ceilings above me are marred by the sound of scuttling, sleep is an issue which shall plague me to each dawn.”
A moment of silence passed as the count blinked at my response.
Then, his confusion was caught in the mirrored shine of the waiting swords.
“... Excuse me, but are you looking at your reflection?”
“I am. And what I observe is the death of my standing. Coppelia, do you see it?”
“... I think so? It’s reeaaaaally hard to see. And that’s saying something.”
“Excellent. Then make sure you remember to look for it. Should you ever see a strand of my hair drift from its designated position, you must inform me with utter urgency.”
“Ehhh, it’s not that bad.”
“You’re correct. It’s worse than bad. I have eyes judging my every pore. A wayward strand is akin to a scar against my cheek.”
“In that case, I have a suggestion!”
“Yes, what is it?”
“Poke out every eye.”
I gave it a moment’s thought.
That moment of thought became a long deliberation as I weighed the benefits and negatives of continually blinding every court dignitary in my kingdom.
After heavy consideration, I shook my head with regret.
“... A bold suggestion. And inventive. However, I believe other complaints would be rigorously sounded if I poked out the eyes of every dinner guest.”
“Sure, but against who? Their eyes are poked out. They don’t know who did it.”
“Poking out eyes is a short term solution. Ensuring my sleep is uninterrupted is the only answer.”
“That means you need to see to the root of the issue, then … pun intended~”
“Yes, well, the root of the issue is that scuttling can be heard in every ceiling in every inn. And the only solution to that is copious amounts of fire.”
“... Soooo, you want me to … ?”
“No, I don’t … yet.”
“Well, if you don’t feel like fire or poking out eyes, why don’t you ask these guys? Look, their hair is all golden and super weirdly straight. They can probably give tips.”
I immediately looked above the wall of outstretched swords, then regarded those present.
True to Coppelia’s words, it was an endless curtain of immaculately long, golden hair … far too much for those who couldn’t even ensure food was properly placed on a platter.
My suspicions was answered by a cough from the waiting count.
“Elven hair is naturally inclined towards perfection,” he duly explained. “Lack of sleep is irrelevant. I’m afraid I can offer no meaningful advice to a human.”
I clicked my tongue.
Elves. Here was a people who’d never known the hardship of having maids poring over their hair as they ate, bathed and napped.
“Now, would you be quite finished?” he asked calmly.
“I am. But I’d prefer if everyone remained still. My appearance is the only thing distracting me from the rampant vandalism still not being tidied.”
“I'm afraid that tidying isn’t one of our virtues. And so it’s with regret that I offer you my arrows and swords instead … once you’ve sufficiently explained your unwanted intrusion here. Why have you presented yourself before us? Have you come to disrupt our task? Our mission? To what purpose does the Adventurer's Guild involve themselves in this affair?”
I rolled my eyes.
“Oh, please. The Adventurer's Guild will find a reason to involve themselves in the affairs of tabbys quarrelling over a ball of yarn.”
The count looked over my copper ring again. As did the pixie beside me, whose expression of general terror was magnified several times over by the reflective blades.
I offered her my sympathy. Lacking my faultless skin, nobody wished to see their blemishes.
“With that said, I decline answering your questions. I have a number of my own, and mine takes precedence. I shall soon expect them to be answered concisely, efficiently, and to the backdrop of relentless scrubbing and back pain.”
The count’s gaze hardened.
“Very well. Then I must offer you the hospitality of the floor instead. Your head, however, may choose any part of it.”
“... Ohohoho. My, how cute.”
I raised a hand to my lips, barely covering my smile as I presented the entrée to my derision.
Frowning in puzzlement, the count stilled all movement with his palm.
“Is something amusing, adventurer?”
“Quite so. There is only one thing which can remove my head. And so long as every village and town square in my kingdom has a network of informants for the sole purpose of watching for any hints of a guillotine being built, I assure you that I’m quite immune from the threat.”
“I’m afraid it’s not … guillotines you should be concerned with. It’s the considerable number of weapons at your back.”
I regarded the ring of elven silver encompassing me.
True. There was a considerable amount involved. More swords than even an overly excited squire could break, and enough bows that any hail of arrows would be guaranteed to find a fruit slime if launched into the forest.
A problem, then.
… Because no matter how I viewed it, it was simply impractical for these elves to be expected to do a passable job cleaning while holding them.
“On that, I agree.”
“Oh?”
“Indeed, there are far too many. The weapons will need to go. All of them. As amusing as it is to imagine a band of miscreants picking up litter using teeth, I prefer expediency over show. My time is valuable … and I do believe you’ve used up quite enough already.”
A stillness rang heavy in the air at my simple statement.
Suddenly, the weight of every gaze was upon my hand. Before my words had even settled, I could feel the eyes waiting for me to reach for my sword.
A needless consideration.
After all, they had little to fear.
Why would they? I was a gentle princess. Why, I even had a ship named after me! And what was that, if not proof of my soft touch and kind heart?
… Moreover, I had absolutely zero intention of sending these vagrants somewhere they could escape taking personal responsibility for their actions!
Every single one of these present was responsible for despoiling my kingdom, and every single one would be responsible for repairing it!
“You are surrounded,” said the count, his eyes betraying a flicker of concern as he glanced to the shadows his own elves inhabited. “There is more silver trained on you than a vampire at the peak of a bloodhunt. Neither you, nor the pixie or the …”
“Coppelia,” said Coppelia.
“... can draw any weapons before you’re struck down.”
I offered a smile to brighten the pavilion where natural light failed.
“Very well. I see that I’m required to take you by the hand in this matter. My apologies, I didn’t realise that tidying was not only difficult for you, but an entirely abstract idea. Though outrageously beneath my high status to instruct anyone not my own handmaiden, I shall render my kindness and my assistance. Rejoice on this most blessed day.”
I waited for the rejoicing.
None did.
Ugh. Elves.
They made merry when others wished to sleep and wore looks of grave suspicion when they should be leaping to the sky. But I expected little else. Had these hooligans the basic etiquette to squeal at this most marvellous of days, I wouldn’t be required to instruct them on how to better their ways.
Fortunately for those present, this was hardly my first time seeing such disorganisation.
In rare times, when the number of loose socks which still didn’t exist in my bedroom had piled to extraordinary amounts and I didn’t wish for my maids to pause in silent, painful judgement before proceeding to work, I took it upon myself to relieve them of their most strenuous of duties.
Thus–
I drew Starlight Grace from my side.
Shadows were cast and then swept aside as light flourished in the pavilion.
A heartbeat passed. And then elven silver filled my vision.
A flurry of swords and arrows leapt towards me. Many from shadows lifted from corners by my fabled sword. A crescendo of elven bows plucked like the strings of harps, while blades as graceful as flowing water sung as they glided cleanly through the air.
And yet–
As I lightly swivelled Starlight Grace … not a single razored edge went towards me.
Instead, they were made to err towards the point of my sword.
“Ohohoho … do take this to heart,” I said as I began my impromptu lesson. “Witness the season’s dream, a horizon drawn by a thousand dustpans. Gardening Form, 8th Stance … [Spring Clean]!
All at once, the surrounding figures stumbled.
With a unified cry of surprise, each elven warrior lurched wildly towards the tiny cone of wind gathering at the tip of my blade as though tugged by a string.
“Wha–?!”
“W-Why did my arrow–”
“My … My arm, it’s … !”
Yet even as they caught themselves, they could not catch the wayward arrows or the wild swings of their swords.
Ohohohohohoohoho … here it was!!
An elegant method to remove all loose items from beneath my bed without sending my precious books into the abyss!! A purpose designed solution to be used in an indoor environment!!
Indeed, by drawing the shape of a tiny cone as I swirled my sword in reverse slightly fast, I could utilise a constant, low-powered tunnel of wind to draw all the loose socks which didn’t exist towards me!
And if that’s all I wished to do, I would stop at this.
A single, elegant sweep as I dispensed with all the necessities of stooping low and crawling under my bed like a chimney boy still in his rags.
However, this was not my bedroom. And these were not the socks which didn’t exist.
These were the discarded possessions, abandoned furnishings, spilled tableware and strewn bits of food belonging to a band of utter vagabonds.
And that included the glimmering weaponry they possessed.
Fortunately, I was an angel. And not only would I offer these hoodlums a head start on their journey of redemption. I would also free their hands of any burdens preventing their community service.
That’s why–
“Ohhohohohoohohhohoohohohohohoho!!”
As I turned on the spot, I continued to widen the cone of wind.
And I didn’t merely direct it at the debris on the floor.
“My gods–?! What is that–?!”
“Move … !! I don’t wanna go near it … Moooove!!”
“My shoes … it just sucked up my shoes … !!”
All around me, eyes widened in horror as swords, bows, arrows, quivers, and hidden knives flew from hands and pockets alike. As I stretched out my sword, a mass of silver painted in bits of food gathered as a swirling cluster before me.
“Ohhohohohohohohohohoho!”
Against the sound of my satisfaction, shrieking cries filled the air.
Elves kicked up the grass, heels digging into the earth as they attempted to flee. Yet even as their legs worked furiously, arms pumping desperately by their sides, all it did was slow the certain drag of their bodies towards the tunnel of trash where they belonged.
As the inevitable drew ever nearer, all thought of fleeing was abandoned.
Figures dived to the ground, trembling hands anchoring themselves by tugging at the tufts of grass. In moments, the sound of sobs filled the air as tears freely ran down cheeks.
I smiled in delight.
Why, those tears would be highly useful for cleaning!
“Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh …… nooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!”
I directed my sword around the pavilion, interrupted only by the staccato of screams. Once satisfied, I assessed the significant pile of accumulated litter before nodding.
Indeed, this was quite enough of a helping hand!
Thus–
Pwwishhhh.
I released the gathered pile.
A heap of unneeded weaponry mixed with the results of their wanton frivolities rolled down. The figures sprawled on the grass gasped for breath. A mass of golden hair dishevelled beyond comprehension.
All except for one.
I blinked, noticing the odd, golden bundle mixed with the rubbish.
“Uuugh … uuh … nnnghh …”
Then, my attention was drawn to the elven count as he raised himself from behind an upturned table. His face was white and pallid … as was the smooth surface of his bald head.
I raised a hand to my mouth in horror.
After a moment of consideration, I poked the golden wig with the tip of my sword, before directing it towards the trembling count.
He reached out, took it, then planted it upon his head.
“T-Thank you,” he said, his voice a croak.
“You’re welcome.”
The count gave a meek nod.
Then, he gingerly swept his gaze around at the sight of his cohorts wetting the grass with their tears. At the modest pile of litter waiting to be added to. At a clockwork doll doubled over with needless, unrelenting laughter. And at a pixie whose wide eyes now encompassed at least 50% of her overall size.
At last, he returned his attention to me.
“... Where would you prefer us to begin cleaning first?”
Comments
They need to be taught via repetition, but even they can be pet trained!
Michael Whitmer
of course even the elven nobility can learn when properly chastised for their actions.
You're welcome! Thank you for reading!
julian
This book keeps getting better! I have no idea how that is possible after 180 chapters. Thank you!
