22. The Sparrow's Feathers Get Ruffled
The elf fainted.
She toppled off the tree stump and rolled across the ground.
Thump-thud... crash!
She finally stopped when her head smacked into a nearby tree.
"...."
Rucia shot me a doubtful look.
[I didn't do anything.]
"Right."
She nodded and walked over to the elf. Yeah, she totally didn't believe a word I said.
...Anyway.
[What are you doing?]
Rucia was prodding the elf with her foot. She was kicking lazily, without any real force, so no harm done — but still. Kicking a fainted person? And not just any person — an elf who stood shoulder to shoulder with dragons?
Seriously, what is with her.
I hadn't realized Rucia had such a cast-iron stomach.
Poke, poke.
Her prodding didn't stop until, at last, the elf's eyes fluttered open.
"Ugh... huh...?"
The elf stared up at Rucia.
Being nudged awake by her foot — any self-respecting herb lover would have wept tears of joy at such a reward. But her reaction was a little different.
"...Spare me."
She scrambled forward on all fours and tried to cling to Rucia's leg.
This is getting kind of boring, actually.
[Attention.]
"Huh?"
She froze for a moment, flustered —
"A-ah...! Understood!"
— then shot upright and snapped into a formal stance.
The elf trembled from head to toe as she looked at me.
"Um. Could you... maybe just let me go this time too...?"
Her face was streaked with dried tears. Looks aside, she was easily one of the most beautiful people at the Academy — but seeing her in this state every single time we met was honestly a little pitiable.
[Why should I?]
Still, since it was fun, I figured I'd drag it out a bit longer. Of course, it might get dangerous if she saw through me later, but —
If she doesn't catch on, no harm done, right?
I looked down at the elf with my most dignified sparrow expression.
"...I mean, I did get in your way back then, but I have absolutely no intention of doing that this time. Okay? Can't you just trust me once?"
She looked ready to burst into tears on the spot.
Hmm.
Was I really that terrifying?
What on earth did she think I was?
Was there someone who fought elves in the old days or something?
Eh, probably some backstory that had nothing to do with us.
[And how am I supposed to trust you?]
I said that, then quietly watched her — and she started talking.
"...Your incarnation just absorbed my mana, didn't it? I was planning to use that mana to escape."
"That was mana I'd wrung out to my absolute limit. I won't be able to use mana for the next several hundred years."
[...That's not a lie, is it?]
"Not a single word of it is a lie."
She swallowed hard, like someone steeling herself for something.
"Of course, I don't expect you to believe me. A being like you would only trust hard evidence."
The elf slipped her hand into the subspace pouch at her waist.
"Here."
What she pulled out was a single sheet of paper, densely covered in writing.
[....]
I examined it closely. It was covered in a language I couldn't read.
"Someone like you would know what this is."
Would I, though?
Scriiiitch.
She wrote something on the paper with her fingernail.
"There. Now you can trust me too, can't you?"
No, I literally have no idea what that is.
"Here. Your turn."
Eventually, I took the paper with telekinesis.
Now what?
Am I supposed to write something on it too? Where, exactly?
If it's a contract, at least underline the spot where the name goes. What am I supposed to do with a page that's just wall-to-wall text?
[Hmm.]
...Still, if I stared at it long enough, maybe I'd figure out what it meant?
Holding on to that vague hope, I scrutinized the paper — and then, suddenly, the words resolved into meaning.
The being who first writes their name upon this pact shall become the bound vassal of the one who writes their name after them.
...So that's what had happened.
What is this.
Come to think of it, this script looked familiar. I was pretty sure I'd seen it before — right before I'd met the elf, maybe?
The door I'd opened with a click of a button. The writing on it had looked just like this.
[I see.]
With a solemn nod of my tiny sparrow head, I wrote in mana:
The name Rucia had given me.
Whoosh.
The moment I finished, the contract erupted in blue light and dissolved into nothing.
"The pact... has been sealed."
The elf wore an utterly hollow expression.
Somehow, I had ended up with a pet elf.
A street sparrow of the Empire, keeping a pet elf. The neighboring kingdoms would turn green with envy, and the republics mid-war would be floored.
Anyway.
Deep into the night, I crossed the Academy forest with the elf in tow. We were well on our way back to the dormitory when she spoke up.
"Are we... going to keep moving like this?"
I turned to look at her.
"Eeehk...!"
Terror bloomed across her face and she started shaking.
What now?
She's the one who started the conversation. Why is she like this?
It was baffling, but I had a more pressing problem on my mind.
What am I going to do with this pointy-eared one.
Out here in the forest, no problem. But the moment she ran into another person in her current state, it would be a disaster. If an elf turned up in any backwater province, the imperial family would mobilize to fetch her — and I was supposed to just tote her around the Academy?
This is a bit of a problem.
Unlike me, the elf couldn't be hand-waved away as a "summoned familiar." If only I could use transformation magic or something.
The spell fizzled out halfway through.
What on earth do I do with her...!
I was deep in thought when —
"...Um, excuse me. What are you thinking about?"
The elf asked with an awkward smile. Absorbed in my own head, I hadn't noticed that my gaze had been fixed on her this whole time. Was it making her uncomfortable?
[I was trying to figure out what to do with you.]
I told her the truth, at least.
"E-eeh?"
The elf's voice quavered.
"Um... what do you mean, 'do with you'...?"
[I can't exactly keep dragging you around. Something has to be done.]
"Uh, uhh...?"
Judging by her reaction, she was thoroughly panicking. Did she really not grasp just how special a being she was?
[I'll explain the details once we're back. Just wait.]
"O-okay. Understood..."
Having drained the elf of all spirit, I sent a telepathic message to Rucia.
[Shall we fly to the dormitory?]
"Yes, Master."
We flew together now and then when we were short on time. Morning would be one thing, but at night we could easily hide our forms. Unless someone had Lihel-level perception, no one would spot us.
[Then up we go.]
After saying that to Rucia —
Woooosh.
I lifted all three of us with mana.
"Wh-whaaat?"
Startled, the elf began flailing in a panic.
Well, I suppose.
The elf was an old-timer. Cutting-edge conveniences like this must feel like some unknowable power to her.
[There's no need to be afraid.]
With that, I kicked off into high-speed flight.
KUUUUNG!
I erased the sound and light with mana, so there was no chance of being spotted. Doing it every day builds mastery, apparently.
Which is why —
"KYAAAAA! SAAAVE MEEE!"
— the elf's screams were censored before they could reach a single soul.
We flew like that for a few dozen seconds.
[Arrived.]
After confirming no one was around, we slipped in through the window. Getting spotted up close at point-blank range would defeat the whole purpose of stealth, after all.
Finally home.
I could never forgive living indoors with shoes on, so I floated over to the shoe rack while still airborne. Once every last shoe was neatly put away —
"Haa... haa..."
— the elf collapsed onto the living room floor, gasping for breath, and then promptly passed out into sleep.
So. What exactly was I supposed to do with an elf?
This is a genuinely massive problem.
It was a real issue. Just stashing her in the dormitory meant that if an intruder showed up while we were out, things would get ugly. Granted, who breaks into a dormitory?
But back when those utterly despicable male students smashed through the living room wall, it had proven there was no guarantee people like that wouldn't come again.
Hmm.
I couldn't sleep a wink and mulled it over until dawn. For a moment, I considered stuffing her into my subspace — then remembered the wild animal I'd put in there alive once, which came out disassembled into tiny bits of meat.
An elf could probably hold up, though...?
I entertained that vague hope for a second, but I wasn't so wicked a sparrow that I'd run the experiment myself.
And so, the next morning, I laid it out for her, earnestly.
It would be a problem if other people found out about her — so what did she think she should do?
[Speak freely.]
And then —
"'Do something with you'... that's what you meant?"
The elf started laughing like a madwoman.
"Aha, ahaha, hahah. So that's what it was...! Ahah!"
That's terrifying. Stop.
"If that's all it is, then this is easy to solve...!"
Still cackling, she pressed on.
"Could you... perhaps lend me a bit of mana? I'm your vassal now, so I can share mana at your will."
Just as she said, I channeled mana into her.
Hsssh, hssssh.
She traced a formula into the empty air, and within seconds had finished something.
"Now, if I do this...!"
The instant the elf tapped the formula with her fingertip —
VUUUUM.
— a violet portal bloomed open in the living room. A familiar vibration.
[Is this the one leading to that forest?]
"Yep. That forest is my domain, so I can move the portal's exit wherever I like. Of course, destroying the portal itself is impossible."
A domain all her own. Kind of badass, honestly.
I want one of those too.
As I was entertaining these petty thoughts, the elf — whose laughter had kept going long enough to be genuinely unsettling — spoke up.
"So from now on, I just live inside this portal, right? Where should I put the exit?"
Good point. Even if we placed the portal, it couldn't be somewhere people were likely to stumble across it.
Like a hidden-piece spot — somewhere like that cave, where nobody else could find it.
I'd gone to the trouble of making her a vassal, so honestly, it'd be nicer if she lived under the same roof. No worries about getting caught coming and going, either. I'd been racking my brain over where in the dormitory to hide her —
[Just put it wherever you like.]
— and then I gave up.
As a vassal, she wasn't much practical use anyway. Whether she got buried in some forest or wandered off beyond the Academy's gates, I decided it wasn't my concern.
That's all I meant by it. But —
"You... really mean that?"
Suspicion crept into the elf's eyes.
[I genuinely don't care where you are.]
"...I see. Well. Then."
She rose from the floor and began scanning the room.
Is she planning to live here?
She was free to go outside, but she seemed to have misunderstood me, so I opened my mouth to explain —
"— I don't know what this thing is, but I'll take this spot."
— and she declared it with total conviction, pointing at something pure white.
[...Seriously?]
"Yep. It appeared while I was gone, so I don't really know what it's for... but I'm guessing it's some kind of water supply? I drank from it yesterday too. I've already mastered how to use it."
She lifted the lid and pressed the button. Water gurgled down through the pipes, and fresh water rose up to replace it.
"Now that I've lost my mana, I need to keep drinking water regularly. This spot seems convenient. ...Was asking for this too much of an imposition?"
[No, it's not that, it's just...]
The thing she had solemnly claimed as her dwelling place was the toilet.
Good grief.
To be fair, it was always kept pristine by a constant purification enchantment.
But still. This was a bridge too far.