The old man spoke again. He urged his guests to come and sit around his table. Again, he apologized for his lack of manners. And nodding confidently, he kept emphasizing the one pillow next to him. My hand dropped the knife. It fell by my feet. Wincing at the old man I asked him what he wanted. Words of apology again reached our—or rather my ears alone, as the two elves were clearly out—and firmly urged me to him. The eagerness he had to do so was what moved me… But there was only one pillow. "We're a group of three." As if all of our situations were normal, and as if we found ourselves in a restaurant, I spoke. "We kinda do need more seats, gramps."
Or was he only inviting me to sit? Wasn't he addressing his words to our little pack of infighting elves? I wouldn't know. His eyes didn't look at one of us in particular. "And… I had something on the go, already," I thrust a finger at my friends. "You better make up for this, old man."
So far, the only vibe he gave off was that of a peaceful, senile, hearty old man who, after a decade of impatient waiting, finally got to see his grandsons coming back to him from war. And quite honestly, he seemed senile and inoffensive. If I were to only wish for it, I supposed, I just had to do so much as toss a knife at him, and he'd be down for the night. Now, his aura changed. "I will not," the old man suddenly said, placing two cold eyes on me, "allow the spilling of blood," he paused, not looking the part of that dumb, senile old person anymore, "...in my house." The pressure he emitted was not just any. My breath quickened. He truly was no joke. From this single stare, I gulped; were my eyes trembling?
Also, did I break into a cold sweat? The man's aura truly was terrifying. If that much pressure startled me, what the hell did the two stupid elves see me as when I showed myself? If I held my knife to this point, I'd have dropped it now. My eyes thought not to let go of him even for a second. He seemed dangerous, even to me. And that's how I met the old man the System guided me to. That same very sharp old man who called me a 'young man' despite me technically being an elf maiden. I'd call myself a young man too, but what did the old man know? That's how I met him.
I just said "Ah." But as I loved to always ask a bunch of whys: "Because?" I genuinely wondered. Why dislike the sight of blood?
Did that old man maybe want to pick a fight with me anyway? If so, let him know that I could fight. Sure, he seemed like a scary old wrinkled veteran, but I could take on even the likes of him. I was strong, after all. I needed to be. And even though this would be a stronger foe, I had already decided that I wanted to live. I also knew something. Might makes right. That's why, in order to live and be happy, I'd defeat anything. Even that old man over there, if push came to shove.
"Because." He only curtly responded.
"...Well." That annoyed me, but I didn't let it show. At any rate, I didn't have to. Because soon, the change in his demeanor came right back at us then. Switching back to the senile and hearty old man mode, he giggled a little, saying that fancy carpet I saw right next to my foot wouldn't certainly be okay with that. "Ho ho ho! Spilling blood would spoil it! This old man is firmly against it," he laughed some more. Then he smiled at me with a chuckle. If I were to protest, I'd say I already spilled some of the two elves' blood on the fine carpet, already, but I said nothing. "What are you waiting for, now? There is your place. Come, come."
Or maybe I needed to, actually. Maybe I needed to let my disappointment show. "Go easy on me, old man!" I grew aggressive. After a change of mind, I insisted that I needed to kill them. In the background, even he, White-haired, who'd now finished healing himself and approached his peer, didn't seem to oppose it. "I need to kill them. So you let me."
"Do not harm my carpet, young man! I will not, under any circumstances allow it—" Crossing his arms and sighing heavily, he looked away from me with a grumpy face. Seriously, what was that old man's problem?
"Listen now, old man..." In spite of every word I gave the two elves or any direction I'd run off to, these two cockroaches would never leave me alone. I said as much to the old man. "And I'm not happy with that," I said in a sharp tone, frowning my brows. Surprisingly then, the old man dared stop his yelling at me not to end his carpet. With a nod, he urged me to continue.
"Oh? Really? Well, my story's finished, though."
"Is that really so, young man?"
"Yes. Story's finished. They harass me. I need them gone."
"No, oh, no, ho ho."
"Err... what?"
"I mean… is that really so, young man?"
"You mean the truth? That's the truth," I solemnly said. " I promise. May I then?" I made to pick up my knife.
"I'm still afraid you cannot."
"W-Why is that!?" I yelled again. "Know what—I'll just kill you too! Why should I listen to you—"
"Oh!? Ho ho ho ho ho!?" He could laugh all he wanted. "I wouldn't dare. Young man. I laugh not at you, but at your bold ignorance. You seem to neglect a detail here." Startled, and pretty much like a fool, I stuttered, telling him that I wasn't weaker than him and that if he thought so, well, he was wrong.
Clearly, that startled comment coming from me only indicated that I felt pushed. I cursed at myself for being so obvious about it. And the old man shook his head. What was it about my ignorance, I asked? In my defense, I was not even one-week-old yet. Ignorance should be permitted on me. "Do not be like this, young man. I shall enlighten you. At present, we are within my house, are we not?"
"I reckon that's true. What of it?"
"Quite simply, I am the master of this lieu. As such, I am to be obeyed here. You must obey the elder, the man in charge of his property. Surely, you were taught that much, were you not?"
"O-Oh!?" Surprise overtook me then and there. "If there was such a rule then! Ha ha ha! Kind Ma'am must have said something of that nature, too. I'm so sorry, old man." At present, rather than the old man undergoing such a change in demeanor, it was me who changed. Similar to that old man, I was switched on to the dumb-senile mode. Giving up on my precedent affair, I had to admit I didn't know the existence of such a rule. It was awkward for me, then. I really became all apologetic and embarrassed at my own effrontery. My little vendetta against the elf cockroaches took on a weird turn, I'll have to admit, but I was okay with that. In the first place, I didn't even really want to end these two elves. Well, the matter of my killing them was only to be delayed, with how things looked right now, but anyway. "I'll sit here, then."
"Please do so. You're a good boy." Rather than belittling, the old man was genuinely appreciating the turn of events. My listening to him brought back faith in youth. Right then and there, it might have been hard to believe, but I had become the old man's hero.
"Sorry again… about the rule I overstepped—"
"Why, think nothing of it. Please, young man."
"If you insist then," I smiled at him.
I could just deal with the two others afterward. They would stick around me. Of that, I was sure. Naturally, since they would, I'd just slay them in a while, I thought. I just needed to have a knife on myself. And evidently, there were none of the old man's carpets outside. So I assumed he would let me borrow a knife. As much faith as he had in me, I had faith in him.
Well, and from now on, as if nothing ever happened, and all the ruckus we just raised was but a fleeting dream, the old man decided to be true to himself. With a wrinkled hand, he brought up the teacup to his lips and enjoyed his long sip. As he saw I looked at him, the old man became all startled. Ceaselessly repeating the same words 'my manners, my manners!' he peered all around himself searching for some object… and after he seemed to have found nothing, just by snapping his fingers, with clattering, a teacup appeared in front of me. It was all prepared and hot. Could anyone just do that? I grimaced at the very impressive trick, but didn't linger on it for so long.
"Tea?"
"Tea," he repeated, throwing me a knowing grin.
The old man ruled his own house. And I was his attendant. How exciting that was. Giggling, I thanked the old man. And with that, that Character's Creation Mandatory Quest apparently went on further down the road.
No killing within the enclosure of these four walls. This house? It had a ruler. The old man was the ruler. The man of the house, basically, the patriarch. He told me so. Therefore, I had to obey him. As far as I was in his house, I had to obey the man.
And… "Since you invited me to stay, Old, I'll just do so and spend some time with you." To my comment, he nodded. I was seated by the coffee table, with the old man. My butt was comfortably in the thick cushion he had placed there, and I sipped on my tea, following, then again, the man of the house's lead. And that was it. The old man sure could be silent. Even though I might have wanted something to listen to, so as not to be bored during my stay, he was a man of no words.
Two knocks moved the peaceful house's door. A voice spoke from behind it. The two elves were waiting for me and hence asked me not to take too much time. With a please, they demanded. But seriously, what were they, cockroaches? I meant it literally now. They were so insistent and deaf that it made me question their sanity.
Especially so because of their deafness. They must have been knowing, by now, about the true identity of their beloved princess. But knowledgeable though they may be, they just decided, apparently, and that was just a guess, to ignore it. To ignore the fact that their princess was no more. Or did they then want me to play the part of the princess held hostage? And go on with whatever plan of sacrificing me they initially had? Well.
I asked them to go out, and so they did. They obeyed their princess. But of course, they had thought of getting back at me once I would step out. That wasn't a problem for me, though. They were weak, I proved it once, and I could prove it a second time. So no real problem. After the old man ordered him out, he had just finished taking care of the hideous, angry elf.
Seeing the elf's reaction as he healed his friend, that wound must have been pretty serious, after all. Thankfully however, a healing spell would heal wounds. Any wounds. Probably. The work that had been on the kinder elf left him—if he wasn't already—totally and thoroughly spent. No power, or magical energy, remained in him. And by then, panting and sweating, he dragged his friend out. And so they left.
I had realized I had been appointed to a quest, by now. "Say, old man, you sleep?" That was an eerie pause for a sleeping man, but maybe that was just him. The old man who could, just by snapping his fingers, prepare and serve tea to a thirsty guest, surely could sleep thus. He was sitting, his back straight, holding a cup of tea to his mouth. His eyes were shut. "Surely, no. I do not feel drowsy." He asked me whether I slept.
"Maybe I am," I said. Once I finished my tea, I placed the cup away, comfortably stretched my arms on the table, and buried my face in them. "Say, old man, what's your name?" He told me to call him an uncle if I so wanted. Or just calling him an old man was okay too. "Say, old man, what are you to the System?"
"The what, now?"
"Say, old man… would you happen to know anything about some, err… quest?"
The old man cleared his throat, put his cup of tea down onto the table's flat surface, nodding solemnly as he always did—and totally ignored me. "So, tell me your story, young man." To his words, despite the fact I was absolutely ignored, my eyes lit up. Someone was interested in me. Straightening my spine at once, I formally sat. "A-And what's my story about, old man?!"
"Isn't 'that' your story? Rather I should say, about your story." His eyes met mine. Understanding what he meant I, unfortunately, did not. As he smiled, I smiled. His face, at present, was just like that of a very friendly old uncle, full of light and surprisingly childish serenity. People said that when old folks aged past a certain point, they became a child again. Maybe in some circumstances, the idea was true. Or well, he was a bizarre old man. I preferred that to the other facet of his face he bared to me when I was about to disobey and insult the rule. He had been cold or even wintery, and distant.
The old man saw I lost myself in his face, and spoke. "Your face too, speaks of much strangeness, young man. Another tea?" I asked him why he called me a young man. I also said no to the tea. To that, he said because I was one.
"How do you know?"
"Do I know?" He looked up at the ceiling. "Maybe I don't, ho ho."
The theme of our gathering seemed to be: I ask questions and you answer with oddities.
"What's 'that' in my story? You said that."
"What series of events did take place for you, young man, to come here, is what this old man meant."
So when I asked an odd question, he answered with something I could understand. Right.
The Character's Creation quest asked me to keep him company. And to warm the old man's heart, while I'm at it. Surely, the System said, if I were to do that much, in return, the old man would deign to help me out in my quest. I didn't need help, but sure. If anything anyway, I was curious about that old, eerie man. I mean, who was he, just another nobody? I didn't, or couldn't, believe he was. As a matter of fact, he managed to make me shudder when he posed a threat.
What was more, the ever-present subtle switches there seemed to be, between his peaceful senile old man mode and cold and staring mode, told me there was more to his personality and end goal. Really, what would I find behind these two eagerly-searching eyes of him? What was a man like him doing alone in an uninhabited part of these endless woods, I didn't know.
Should the System have summoned him here? No way. What was it, then? All of that was what made me choose to stay here for a little. To top it off, the man seemed so glad at the chance of receiving a guest. If I was to stay, I would do as the System said. In order to create my character and start whatever was the 'Game' about. Or just go right back home to the kind ma'am. Either way, I had to entertain the old man.
"Old man. You're part of my favorite people."
"To hear that! Oh, I am honored. Young man, may I venture to ask… where does that come from—"
I held a hand out and told him not to ask. "And so, old man…"
"Mmhm!?"
After I asked him where from I should begin my story, he was glad I asked, he said with a thumbs-up and told me he wanted to know it all. He was in fact so glad that, despite my saying no, he had to pour me some more tea at once. However humble his abode may have looked, he rapturously explained, he shall serve me more tea.
Why simply because he wanted to make me as happy as I did make him. So I reluctantly accepted the tea, and told him I'd agree to tell my great story to some sussy old man I'd just encountered in the middle of a forest I'd been abducted to against my will, and after I nearly killed two elves who took me for their princess and said they needed to deliver me to the demon lords to save their whole people from being eradicated. To that, he heartily laughed a chorus of Ho ho hos before I started.
This content is taken from fr(e)ewebn(o)vel.𝓬𝓸𝓶