My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World-Chapter 873 A Burning Memory, Part 6

"Little baby Ria."

Ria, the full-grown and jaded version of her anyway, watched as her younger, corporeal-flamey self continued flapping her little wings across the living room space. Up and over the bumps and ridges of couches, gliding behind the window drapes as a whizzing splotch of light bleeding through the thick fabric.

The flame bird was kinda like a housefly. A cuter, less rage-inducing house fly buzzing past your ears and in the corner of your eyes - flying wild and whimsical.

I suppose there are just some traits that stick with you through childhood and beyond.

"The little hatchling bird with a human father. She's actually a silver-winged Silian, in case you couldn't tell from all the magical orange flames around her body. A bird species native to the western regions of Kronocia. As the name suggests, they're known for their large silver wings which you can easily spot shimmering up in the skies - most noticeably in the summer. They can grow to be quite large - like, I'm not even the biggest there ever was - and they

are also capable of transporting loads twice their body mass. Fiercely loyal beings. Easily learned too."

Then, as if on cue, the gaunt smoldering figure atop the table slowly raised a quivering arm, and at once, the baby bird soared in a sharp plunge, landing, and almost slipping a talon, using the old man's arm as a makeshift perch.

"For the first three years of her long, long life, Ria only knew to stretch her wings, to waddle on her little knobbly legs, and squawk and squeak with her beak whenever the mood would take her. All she knew in her extremely limited view of life was that she existed, that she could fly, and that falling over ledges hurt like a bitch… and also that she really, really loved the funny-looking old man always hobbling after her very much.

"One day she discovered her wings didn't have to stay wings if she didn't want them to be. In the mirror, she'd look, and find herself with a new set of arms, a fresh pair of legs propping her taller, and that the little bird in her reflection had suddenly transformed into the body of a little girl."

Ria flicked a finger, and her smaller self hopped down, losing form, going from a bird perched affectionately atop her father's arm, to an innocent little girl holding tightly onto his hand.

"In her newfound form, she realized she could now do so much more together with her old man. She had a voice now, she could talk to him - so many early mornings spent learning to pronounce her ABCs. With her brand new hands, she could open the doors of the house for him, and with her legs help him when he needed to walk up and down the stairs. Ria loved helping around the house, but even more than that, she loved being rewarded. Treats and snacks… especially head pats - still kinda do, you know?"

Leering, winking - just what in the hell was she looking at me for?

"But not everything was perfect. For one thing, Ria was never allowed too far from their house - a secluded home far from anywhere resembling civilization. Her father had told her that she was a being never meant to be, that her existence needed to be kept secret until the world was ready to accept her. Obviously, the nuances of social acceptance mostly went over the little lady's head. She never could get why she needed to hide at all if she had never done anything wrong in the first place - but for the most part, she was fine with her circumstances… up until her precious papa needed to leave the house a while in order to resupply their stocks. Once a month, twice sometimes - he'd be gone for three days, four - a week at most, either way, too long a time for an easily lonely bird with a slight touch of separation anxiety. Still, I suppose it wasn't all bad. The moment he returns, when that door finally creaks open, it was like the whole was sparkling again."

Little Ria was frolicking around her bigger self's plate now. Bouncing up and down the dried-out lamb piece, hopping over from crumb to crumb, and weaving through a maze of fries, all the while, the older fiery silhouette trailing close behind every step blissfully watched her go.

"For seven years. Seven years spent feeling the happiest she ever thought she'd be. Seven years of living, of learning, and loving. Seven years of ignorance, of lies… before one day would come to change it all."

Suddenly, just as the little girl ran merrily forward, right before she could reach to take her father's outstretched hand, both figures dissipated in a puff of smoke. Ria blew a sigh.

"Her father had returned from another trip to the nearest township. He was only gone for a single day, he did not return with any supplies with him like usual. But little Ria ignored all that - after all, he's back! What could be bad about that? Yet as young and naive as she was, she could not possibly ignore the look of panic stuck onto the old man's face.

"As soon as her old man arrived at town, he happened to overhear talks among the townsfolk of a strange creature made of pure light deep amidst the heart of the woodland nearby. Someone had discovered their little secret. But how, exactly? Why, the old man racked his brains for so long for a logical answer. He had been careful, meticulous. Was it just luck? Perhaps a huntsman wandering too close for their own good? Or did she happen to fly a little too high, too noticeably up during a particularly clear weather?"

Ria paused again, her lips narrowed, almost clamped shut, almost as if wishing to just stop right then and there. It took a moment, but eventually, she didn't.

"Or perhaps it had something to do with her little girl sneakily following after him along during every one of his trips. Keeping far enough, brief enough behind him never to be noticed, but staying just long enough, for someone else to have done so. Perhaps that was it. Who knows? It could be any one of them, honestly."

She scoffed but didn't smile. And then a bit bored, a bit dull, Ria flicked on her puppets again in an attempt to spice things up.

Unlike before, the old man was nowhere to be seen around the table. Instead, a single puppet, a lone figure, hovered and fluttered stagnantly above our drinks. It wasn't exactly a leisure flight though. Her feathers were fluttered, her wings flapping desperate, and between her sharp talons, she held onto a wrinkly old letter.

The moment I saw that, I knew exactly what I was seeing here. Once again, deep in sleep, I was there for this.

"As luck would have it, the rumors reached far enough to perk up the ears of the Churches. They were in town, snooping about, asking questions, and finally narrowed their search to a certain eccentric old hermit living alone in his old cottage. When he made it to town, they were already on their way to his humble abode, where his secret, his life's work, was suddenly under great threat of being lost forever. Without skipping a beat, he rushed home… beating the impending by only a few measly minutes."

"At his age, he was far too feeble to be able to do anything about it. He could only think of one thing, do only one thing - send her away, far away. Where, exactly? He gave her specific directions - navigation, they trained almost every day. She was very good at navigating the land. He told her to find a man in a tower far down south. He ordered her, pleaded with her many times, handing her a letter that he insisted must end up in the man's hands. He promised that the man would take good care of her, that he was a friend, someone he could trust with his life."

Ria fixated her gaze on the little bird still in flight. She was flying quite awkwardly, constantly fluctuating and wobbling around… at times almost close to plummeting to the earth. ｆ𝑟𝑒𝐞𝚠𝒆𝚋𝚗૦𝐯ℯ𝙡. com

Which she eventually did… going off from memory.

"Little Ria was not having any of it though. No way was she going to just abandon her father for no good reason. She didn't even understand why she had to - so what if she was seen? so what if people knew about her? She didn't hurt anyone, she didn't do anything. Why would they want to hurt her? Or even worse, hurt her father because of her? No, it didn't make sense. It never made sense. She cried to stay, clinging to her old man's robes even as he kept pushing her away with all his might. He shouted and she shouted even louder. He pushed, and she held on even tighter. Nothing was going to keep her away."

"Then the door burst open, strangers flooded in. Other people wearing robes like her old man, together with some strange-looking pointy-eared folks. It took one of them reaching for her to finally do it. Her father attempted to protect her, he fought back, and that's when they began drawing weapons. One of the pointy-eared ones swung their sword, my father jumped in the way, and… he was bleeding, he was screaming… and I… I finally decided to listen. I flew, dodging arrows, spells, diving deep into the night… flying high up where they'll lose track of me. I went so fast I didn't have time to look back, I didn't get the chance to see if he was still even alive - I just flew until eventually… I couldn't anymore."

Just as I remembered, predicted, Ria made the bird crash violently across the table in an explosion of fiery pellets in a downpour of heavy rain.

Maybe just a tad bit rougher than I remembered, but hey… it wasn't me that fell from the sky.

"You know…" Ria muttered offhandedly in ponder, leaving her little self lying motionless in a ditch. "I remember him promising that when he returned from his trip that he'll finally give me a name. I remembered being all that excited about that… shame I'll never know what he had in mind for me now."

"You mean Ria wasn't already the name he gave you?" Irene asked, her voice coming almost as a shock after so long in silence. "Then, who was it?"

Ria looked at her, wearing a smile that was barely there, but didn't actually answer.

"Anyway, I did it," Ria continued on. "I found the tower. Just as he said I would. Just as I promised I would.

Little Ria then got up, from her hold, cold, weary and wet, spotting eventually with eyes welling with tears, a looming tower way off in the distance.

Or just right across the table, as far as Ria's stage play extended.

"I had the letter, I just needed to give it to the man… then everything will be fine again, just like he promised me it would."

She had her younger self stagger up toward the front steps of the tower, meekly knock on the large timbered door twice her size, and like Deja Vu in flame-form, I watched as a jaded, menacing figure answer her call.

"Instead I find myself winding up in the care of a man called Silas," Ria finished with an audibly sour note to her voice. "My other father."